Anguirus: Death In The Ice
by EarthBaragon
Summary: A group of men, lead by an enigmatic Russian commander, are brought to the North Pole to fix a secret radar station. Meanwhile, the land of snow and ice has given way to several giants that set about to bring their power upon the world of man.
1. Chapter 1: Mystery in the Snow

**Mystery In The Snow**

The frigid arctic air blew across the old barge's deck, numbing the several pairs of men that stood on her bows. Each was wrapped tightly in their own wool coats. Though the dark brown, thick clothing, did little to stem the breezes of glacier winds that whipped and lashed out around them. Behind each of their clear goggle masks, they could see only white. Layers upon layers of pure white snow stretched as far as the eye could see. Some grumbled, while others shivered uncontrollably.

More ice cracked and split as the iron hull wedged its way through the floating ice. Man's machine was defying nature's work and was paving a road for his own travel. Feet of cold earth were shattered and parted. The ship, the Iron Brokkr, had ventured this trip many times before. And each time, new dents and scratches were made to her plates. Each cut had a story to tell from the seas; an ageless lifetime of sailing.

"So does anyone know the big secret to where we are heading?" one of the short, more portly men, yelled out to his gathered comrades.

He awaited for a few minutes, but no answer came. The rest of the Russian men were mute. Their expressions reflected the same blankness that befell him. Gaafa Tolya shrugged from the lack of reply. The men were about as dumb as he was on their reasons for being here. He tightened his jacket before he walked away from the group, straying to see a bit more of the ship. But no sooner had he taken a few steps, than a voice called out his name.

"Mr. Tolya, if I were you I would stay with the others," the cry howled among the winds. "It would be better if you didn't ask so many question as of yet."

Gaafa flushed with anger at the remarks. His face turned momentarily red for a second. Lips pursed as he prepared to defend himself to the mysterious figure that sought to dictate his movements.

"And who would you be," the grizzly Russian barked back at the figure that strode forward from the cabin's open door. The man was decked out in Russia's full military garb. The black brimmed hat shadowed the thin and narrow face. While the individual's dark gray crisp suit flapped in the wind. The man's body was like stone, standing motionless against icicle breezes that carried across the deck.

"My name is Boris Yaroslav, your commander for this little expedition," the lean muscled devil growled. "Our motherland has put me in charge, and I will see that it is a success."

"In charge of what," another one of the men asked, his voice cracking in fear from the omnipotent human's form.

Boris sat in silence for a moment. Contemplating how close the ship was to its destination. It was only a matter of minutes before they would be close enough to reach. The men might as well be told of what they will do. No harm could be done at this time.

"Alright then," the sinew lips whispered back. "Located approximately five miles away from us right now, is an arctic base. Created and named by our government as Mjöllnir's Summit. It hosts some of the most advanced radar technology on the planet. You are to replace some of the men immediately. Their work, is not progressing far enough for my expectations. Russia's future depends upon the success of this facilities work."

"Well, I don't know about the rest of these men," Gaafa spoke out, interrupting the solider in mid speech. "But I am a seismologist. My particular studies are focused to predicting strengths and areas of volcanic tremors. That is until I was yanked away from my studies. So I fail to see what my work could possibly do…"

"Silence," the general roared. "These men on board are needed to complete my crew at the base. You however, are needed for other reasons. Recently there has been a small series of quakes that have struck the area. So far the only thing that has been identified from these mysterious tremors is a rise in volcanic heat. It is hoped by my superiors, that you can find out why these tremors have been hitting the area suddenly. And see if there is any way to stop and prevent them from interfering with the delicate sonar readings of my station."

"Why was this base made," the chubby scientist poked and probed further. His eyes raised in speculation from what the real truth would be.

"For the protection of our homeland," the shadowed man snarled. "You men have been chosen to serve your people, in the greatest way possible. What you do in the coming time, will save your children, save your fellow man. And once again reclaim the name to Russia that it deserves. No enemy will ever threaten us again. We will have the eyes of God himself and be able to see what our enemies are planning."

Gaafa stayed quite for the next few seconds. Debating whether it would be in his best interest so far, to argue about this feeble story. He did not believe that this base was just for monitoring purposing. Such secrecy would not be used if that were the case. The government would not so dearly pull him from his work, if these mysterious earthquakes did not threaten something far more valuable. His heart shivered at the mere thought of what it could be potentially.

* * *

><p>Suddenly the barge creaked to a stop. The sound of protesting, twisted metal, resounded the end of the journey. Men shook a little from the hasty jolt. But the demanding Russian General stood surefooted. His thin lips and cat like eyes gleamed briefly. They shinned through the human complex, a devilish visage. Gaafa caught a glimpse of the face, and it made him even more scared. This would be a time to remember in Russia's history for sure. How that was to be read; only time would tell that.<p>

From his vantage point, the captain of The Iron Brokkr, watched diligently as General Boris Yaroslav and his cast of men were lowered from the side of the ship. The makeshift pulley ropes, also descended several large vehicles and groups of soldiers. Even from his deck, the gray haired seaman, could hear the soft rattling of the jeeps engines as they fought the cold to stay warm and running. The groaning creaks of the man-made machines echoed their true purpose with the military soldiers. It was almost as if the men and machines were expecting an evil to descend upon them. The captain could smell the faint wisps of death that hung around the war tested transports. The power they emoted. He could literally taste the blood they had spilled. The Russian soldiers stood like forged steel as they finally made contact with the ice's surface. Meanwhile, the war forged General watched with weathered eyes.

"They seem to know what is going to await them at that base," a voice whispered from behind the stone captain.

Lev Oleg listened warmly, while his trusted wheelman continued.

"This has been one of the worst years I have seen these waters. The ice is unusually thick. And the air, you can barely breathe in it. There have also been a high number of blizzards and unusual storm activity. If Hell ever froze over I imagine this is what it would be like."

"I know Rustam, I've noticed it as well," Lev sighed. "You know the difficulty I had at assembling a crew to man the boat. Most of the elder seaman refused to set sail. Their superstitious minds told them that death was about. One even went as far to try and damage the engine room. He was ranting about some ice demon that would come. And that we, would lead it to Russia. He could have almost wiped out all of the morale in an instant."

Rustam's mind flashed back to that day. He was one of the men that had to wrestle a wrench from that crazed being. He remembered feeling sorry for the old man. His eyes were crying and mouth was babbling of unseen horrors that waited for the ship, and maybe all mankind. He had to be dragged out, clawing and kicking from the hull. Thank god that the ship's crew did not see the hysteria. Their morale would have been destroyed surely if they had heard the warnings of the demented mortal. But he couldn't shake the feelings that drugged his soul. Something was in those slurred and frantic screams, a truth begged to be honored. To be accepted. Yet now it was too late. Half of their trip was already completed, and Rustam could not wait to finish the rest. The less time they spent in this arctic wasteland, the better.

"We might have to wait a while before we can return," the captain breathed in his freezing speech. "We ventured too far into the ice. It will take time for the hands to chip away enough of it to allow us to backtrack."

The Wheelman cursed in his gut, damning the fate that would keep him here for longer. With a short puff, he put it behind him and stared off, out the port side of the deck to spy the scientists. Their gear was finally secured down, jeeps strapped up, and ready to go. Within minutes, the group of men were off; skidding into the frothing snows. The sands of time trickled by quickly for Rustam and soon they were out of sight. They disappeared into the vast unknown.

"Get the men started immediately," the seaman ordered.

Quickly, his first mate exited the room, and descended the steps. He would fulfill and carry out his captain's request. This trip could not last any longer than he wished it to be.

* * *

><p>Winds lapped and beat against the Russian scientists. It clubbed with fists of cold against their woolen forms; turning their cheeks to bright rosy weathered jowls. They tried to bury their heads in their scarves, but the attempts were less than fulfilling. The men just had to endure the swamping frost for the time being. Even the fearful General was tucked away in his jeep; wrapped in the guise of seal furs. His eyes though, still were piercing. Cutting their gaze across the frozen tundra and never blinking. His one mission and goal was to arrive at the base. His superiors would be pleased, if he was able to handle this little situation quickly.<p>

Suddenly a voice spoke to the curled up Gaafa. "Hey."

The stout geologist looked over in surprise at his traveling partner in the back of the solider driven vehicle. The Russian man was quite young, maybe in his mid twenties, Gaafa guessed. His face was adorned with a thick pair of black-rimmed glasses. His features, screamed the enthusiasm that was his soul, but at this time, that was not something to admire. The volcano expert waved warmly back and smiled, which only began the deepening conversation that would follow.

"My name is Vadim Kirill," the stranger spoke lightly.

"My name is Gaafa Tolya," he replied back.

Silence then followed, but Vadim would not let it stay. "So, how did they manage to rope you into this?"

Gaafa chuckled at the obvious question, yet wanted to end the quiet that dwelt in the air. Knowing who the men where, that he would be working with, might better help him piece together the mystery that was hanging about this mission. Besides, the man seemed genuinely friendly and inviting. It might be beneficial to have a friend on this trip to bounce ideas off of.

"An old comrade of mine approached me at the university I worked at," he began. "He told me of something that I admit to have trouble swallowing. It seems that this base is full of a lot of secrecy. A few months ago, an earthquake struck, about a hundred miles away. However, since then, the epicenter has been moving."

"Moving," the young lad gasped. "But that's preposterous. I might not be an expert of geology, but I know that an earthquakes epicenter does not move."

"Quite right," Gaafa retorted back to the interruption. "And this, "epicenter" has slowly been moving towards the facility that we are heading too. Another interesting fact, that has been found, is that the temperature of the water, around these quakes as been steadily rising. I guess this is why the government readily jumped at the idea that this was some sort of arctic volcano."

"You sound like you don't believe that is the case," Vadim said, with a hint of suspicion.

"I don't," the rock scientist breathed. "There is no data collected from anywhere that would attribute this phenomenon to a volcano. There are no signs of thermal gas or Maguma. No I believe something else is causing this event. And I am determined to find out what that is. So why are you here, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I thought you never ask," Vadim deemed proudly. "I work with bones. Well, ancient bones. I'm a paleontologist."

The chunky volcanologist's eyebrows rose in suspension. He was surely perplexed on the man's profession and the reasons why he would be needed at a radar station. This new information only deepened the enigma that hung about the military mission at hand.

"Several military personal approached me at my home in the middle of the night and took me into custody," the young man recounted his memories. "Couple of hours later Mr. Sourpuss over there, that you spoke with earlier, showed me a huge six feet long ancient bone. Believe it or not but it was a tooth! From the size it would make it the one of the largest animals that has ever lived on this planet. I couldn't very well pass that up. So he asked for my help and I accepted. I'm hoping this trip is going to be my ticket into the real academic world."

"That is assuming that the government allows you to publish your findings," the older man whispered back. "I mean this is a military base and mission. You honestly think they will let you tell the world of your findings?"

The once smiling youth suddenly went blank. The idea of not being able to tell the world of the largest extinct animal to ever live on this planet had never occurred to him. His toothy grin slowly transformed into a depressing frown.

"I never thought of that…," he sighed. "Oh well, I will figure something out. You just leave it up to me."

Overhead, the sun beat down. It scarcely did anything to warm the lands. The burning star lit the ground, bathing the void less white snow, in hues of amber and scarlet. They traveled, for what seemed a timeless journey. The staring glares, the numbing draft, and lack of sleep, all added to the hellish destination. The dwarfish intelligent man thought they would never see the end, until his watery eyes perceived the building that lay ahead. Through the hail of cloudy snow his almond irises could make out the dull gray and silver armored covers. He could also see that something was fowl. As he neared the base, the details became clearer. The windows were broke, their fragments spewed across the grounds. Parts of the walls were collapsed, shattered and ravaged. It looked as if an ogre's hammer had come down and crushed the facility into dust. Leaving nothing left to stand against its testament of strength.

"What the hell happened," he murmured to his self. "What could have done this?"

Deep down inside, Gaafa really did not want to find out. For if ignorance is bliss, than he wanted none of the truth. However he might not have any power over that decision.

Within minutes, the rest of the group arrived at the site. Each with their mouths gapped open in awe. Wires half buried in snow, doors torn off their hinges. Even the wicked, Boris Yaroslav was dumbfounded. His mind danced at the images that greet him. His eyes darted back and forth, from one shredded wall to the next. All around he could see strewn out computer counsels.

"Impossible," the veteran solider gasped. "That thing could not have done this!"

Gaafa craned his head towards the forceful soldier at the sudden outburst. The man said that "this thing" could not have done this. He had no idea of what the general was talking about, What was "this thing" he was raging about?

"This was no earthquake," Gaafa Tolya replied back. "There is no sign of the ground being shifted. Something else did this. I suggest that we leave, we can do no good here any longer."

"No," Boris protested with authority. "You forget who is in charge here, Mr. Tolya. We still have an obligation to complete. There is valuable information in that wreck of a building. And we are going to get it. I will radio to the ship, to hold their course. But until then, you men are going to find and recover as much data as you can.

"You can't be serious," the portly Russian yelled back against the orders. "We are not soldier's dammit. We are scientist, we are civilians. This is a job for the military. This place has been attacked. Hell, where are the men that were here before. There is no sign of life at all."

"There job is to find that data," the General snapped back venomously. "That is what they were assigned to do, no matter the conditions. You are to find out what is causing that earthquake that is approaching us. The men before probably were lost in a blizzard. Anyhow, that makes no difference. Now unless you want to spend the rest of your miserable lives in prison for treason against your country, I would suggest you start. You have a lot of rubble to get through.

The group quivered in dismay at the cold condescending tone of the warrior. His voice carried no remorse for the lives that no longer were here. The area screamed with besieged murder, and the man felt nothing of it. His heart was as cold as the air around him. The organ was set in stone, and shed no tear for any loss. The educated men really didn't know which to dread. The obvious killing that had taken place or the man that stood among them, and screamed for work. Ignoring the safety of all, terrine now commanded this base. It was shadowed in the form of a madman.


	2. Chapter 2: The Winds Speak

**The Winds Speak**

The raven night sky blanketed the Arctic lands, covering all in a pitch-black veil. The only relief from the stark jet cauldron was the pale light from the full moon that hung over head. The light sea blue effulgence, shinned down on the sleeping ship. It bathed with radiant and luminescent glows of fading pearl and sapphire. Her decks were quiet now, all but devoid of life. Her crew was sound asleep, after a long hard day. As soon as their captain gave them the order to remove the ice, they did. Yet the task was more difficult than expected. Hours they spent on the slippery snows, hacking and chopping away, and still they accomplished little of the job. The crystal water was as hard as rock. And for every bit they seem to chip away, more seemed to appear. It was as if the devil's cold grip would not let them go. Rumors began to arise, that a curse was upon this trip. A bane of darkness and evil, which would seal all who ventured into this world, in a rotting grave. Their only companion would be the maggots and worms that feasted on their shredded corpses. The poisoned words slithered and corrupted their sleep. If any of the men did in fact, receive any sleep.

The lights on the ship, which were on, were those that belong to the captain. The helm of the ship glowed like a great burning eye. Staring and defying the darkness that sought to contain it. Inside the flame, captain Lev Oleg sat drinking his coffee. Behind him, his wheelman Rustam, stood against the Oakwood furnished drive. They sat in silence, enjoying the peace of the wasteland. No animals, no cars, nothing to disturb the utter rapture and ecstasy. Lev closed his eyes, letting his mind drift to heavenly worlds. Swimming in the streams of levity, dropping all restrains against the currents that pulled.

"Such a beautiful night," the young man whispered to the room. "You don't see many like this."

"No you don't," the captain replied back. "This moment was worth the entire trip. This peace, this slice, of eternal paradise."

Suddenly the winds picked up, carrying on its wings, a long moaning cry. A morn which swept across a million years of frail mortality. A wail, filled with anguish and sorrow. Groaning its grievances to any that would hear. The men's hearts and bodies shuddered then, shaking to the bone of what was echoing in the night. The call lasted for what seemed an eternity, until finally; it faded into the frozen waters.

"What was that," the impressionable youth lightly spoke.

His eyes were wide, full of fright, at what just sounded from the black voids. He stared at his commanding officer for the answer, but Lev was silent. His features were as twisted and gaped, as Rustam's own. Sweat dripped from their bodies, falling to the floor in puddles of rippling terror. Their souls were poured from their earthly bodies, stripped away in the talons of the cloudy skies.

Then, the howl deplored again. This time, much closer. The noise resounded among the hollowed shell of the ship. Beating its power against the steel sides like a demon's drum. Men, who had been sleeping, undisturbed, were sent crashing to the floors. Thrown down from the waves of hated malice, that screamed into their minds. Clawing at the flesh, tearing into their memories, their deepest horrors.

"Sir, what do we do," the wheelman pleaded for answers.

But no reply was given. The strong Russian man was a prone statue next the window; staring out onto the glossy metal decks. He tried to peer through the falling sable cloth. Trying to see what demon was shouting from the pits of hell.

Soon after, without warning, the diabolical sin-clad fiend descended. The creature was huge, his form, blocking out the streaming beams of shining moonlight. The beast towered on the land, mocking what dared to stand against it. And as it stepped forward, nearing, it became clearer. The animal was beyond the scope of imagination. Just the mere visage of the demon, sent those who looked upon it, into cringing children. Sanity was crossed, and madness ran supreme.

Two great, chiseled legs, raised the fallen angel to the heavens. Each slag of blood mesh and bone, ended in a three clawed, webbed foot. Which even now, Lev could see, rack its paw across the broken glassy ice, causing deep scaring rifts in natures beauty. At it's sides, where arms might have been, flapped a pair of leathery wings. Each tipped with, at their joints, three scythe like claws. Behind it, a powerful sinewy tail crashed and beat the ground. And then, after staring up the oak sage stature, speckled with dark splotches, the face gleamed upon a powerful muscular neck. In its mouth, two saber-tipped, canine teeth, jutted outwards from its upper maw. It's head was adorned with a single short dagger like cranial horn. In deep-set sockets, twin glowing orbs, flamed with life. Shimmering with blazing lust, the yellow eyes, never blinked, always staring into the men's souls.

With each step, the blasphemous monster, cried into the endless ebony plains. And with each cry, tears issued from the ship's crew. Tiny screams of mingling insects, running for their pathetic lives. Lev and his wheelman though, stood still. Each refused to move. Stone ran through their blood. And pride clocked their hearts. This ochre hued giant would not defy their courage. It would not stamp out their bravery.

The mammoth creature growled, like grinding rock, as it stopped its advance. Its baring teeth, fenced heatedly at the stuck vessel. Suddenly the great destroyer opened its maw wide, spanning the jaws to a gigantic orifice of daggers. Each human could stare right down the tunneling trap, looking at the dripping foam of desire against the blood red meat inside. Then, following the yawning mouth, the air was befell with a growing hiss. A sound that resembled escaping fumes from the depths of the earth, calling for cleansing and purity to be bestowed upon the filth of man.

Suddenly, from the fanged maw, a great gout of frozen cries were breathed. A sheet of white, swirling fury that wormed and twisted itself upon the ship. Men and machinery were instantly blanketed in a brittle frost, their screams of utter martyrdom torture, clinging to their lips. Grasping to the fleshy agony stripped lungs and throat. With each second that passed, the cold hand of death clasped tighter. Dragging on the suffering for as long as possible. It was as if the demon's mere breath had a life of its own.

One of the men, caught in the frothing maelstrom of hate, crawled about the deck aimlessly. He tried to make his way to the side of the boat, where the life rafts were kept. He never got far. In short time, his skin burned. Stinging his frail mortal body like soaring flames of hell's forge. He watched as soft pink skin, was transformed into steel crystal. Glassing over his shape like an oozing plague. Throughout the upper decks, the same scene was played over and over again. Never once ending the carnage that the monster was bestowing.

Finally, the winged fiend ceased its bloodbath. Halting its fowl breath, only to set its eyes on the murder it granted. The sailors were now like ghosts in the wind. Their pain, and last moments of anguished lives, set frozen against their twisted faces. Above the slaughter, the captain and his wheelman looked on with tear stained eyes. All of them, gone in but a flash. Rustam slowly stepped back from the frost laced window, curling into a sniffling child, onto the floor. The man buried his head in his arms, whispering ever so softly over and over again, that he would wake up from his dream. But Lev Oleg knew the nightmare was real, and that this would be the end of the Iron Brokkr's sailing days. Even as his thoughts drifted across the countless memories of his aged mind, the blasphemous creature approached closer.

Huge striding steps brought the mass of meat and demise nearer to the still vessel. The animal's huge cobalt eyes reflected brief perplexing at the silent steel. Slowly it moved around the tempered hull, cocking its head left to right, studying the machine with growing distrust.

Then, without warning, the boat sprang to life. The twin massive propeller blades that gave speed to the ship; turned feverishly in the water and ice. Chopping through the frozen stone, and forcing the vessel to flee slowly. Lev looked back at the wheel controls, incredulously, astonished to find his friend wracked with fear, thrusting the throttle forward. He slammed the lever to the floor, snapping the gearshift shaft like kindle wood. Fear and dementia gripped the sailor, driving his body to escape. Ignoring his mind, and obeying only instincts.

"Idiot," Lev cried out as he leapt for the controls.

Lashing down his friend, he sought to halt the vessel. But death was already set in motion. The sudden blast of life from the once silent foe drove the ice demon to attack. Clubbing its leathery wings against the man made vessel, the animal desired to end the ships vain attempts of escape. Layers of steel and iron cried out in protest as the monster unleashed its centuries of malice. Support beams cracked and gave way to collapsing weight. Once a great ship, that was the pride of Russian technology, the Iron Brokkr split in two. The newly separated halves quickly flooded with millions of gallons of glacier sea water. As the torn metal sank slowly, it carried with them the frozen and mangled corpses of many good souls.

The huge leviathan looked with soulless eyes. They were unmoved and unwavering. This titanic metal creature had invaded its icy domain, had made a mistake that resulted in it paying the ultimate price. No creature shall ever stand against the solitude and seclusion that embodied Peguila. He had awoken to a world of pesky, screaming, carrion creatures that destroyed whatever they touched. The creature's muzzle twitched sporadically in the air. It's delicate and lengthily whiskers fluttered in the howling winds that whipped and tongued the giant's form. Peguila's highly adapted olfactory senses could perceive the faint wisps of other life. They reeked of an odious smell. These insects would not be tolerated in his kingdom.

Howling into the cavern of the night, the dominate creature streaked into the air on wings of murdered fate. Arms spanned the skies, blotting out the gleaming moonlight rays. Death would again be delivered to those whom wish to tread on his domain.

* * *

><p>The dozen or so scientists crawled and wormed themselves beneath the smashed computer terminals that littered the cracked tile floors. Their hands danced from wire to wire, vainly trying to breathe life back into the electronic hardware. Whatever had happened at the base really did a number on everything. Damaged heaters were cranked up to their fullest, but could do little to overcome the seeping cold that wormed it's way in. They might have had a chance to stem the breezes with boards, if Boris Yarosl<span>a<span>v's soldiers would have lend a hand. The men however were under different orders outside the military installation. The general had decreed that the men prepare a perimeter. All around the building, the men scrambled to construct defensive positions. Some sat in frost covered, sandbagged, gun turrets. While others squatted behind bolted down mortars.

Gaafa and Vadim looked on in questioning manner from the recesses of a fractured doorway. They knew little of computers and thought that offering their assistance to the other men would be a hindrance. Both Russians felt like the mediocre third wheel of the two groups. The chubby volcanic expert had spend most of the time with his own equipment, but the readings that he was receiving were distressful. This "epicenter" was still on its way to the base, moving at about forty miles an hour. Heat readings from some of Russia's orbital satellites; satellites that he was given permission from the government to access, were continuing to rise. Whatever was happening in that seismic event, was making a straight bee-line for their position. He couldn't explain how this was possible since no known fault line existed this far north of the planet.

"I don't know about you but the sight of all those itchy trigger fingers out there is making me a wee bit nervous," the paleontologist joked in mocking gesture against the overbearing military presence. "Can't really figure out why those dudes seem so worried. I mean what the heck is going to get us all the way out here. I mean the only signs of life this far north is that piece of fossilized skeleton they showed me."

"Could you tell what animal that fossil came from," the young man's friend questioned back.

"Didn't really have any time to look it over all that well," he retorted. "All I could tell was it was mammalian from its basic structure. Though I got to tell you, it wasn't the bone itself that got my interest peaked. It was the carbon dating that came with it. The fossil itself only dates to be about three hundred years old."

"Impossible," Gaafa scoffed with almost laughter in his voice. "Damn government funded facilities. They really screwed up that test didn't they."

"Yeah that's what I am thinking too," Vadim joshed back. "But hey think of it, imagine if that thing was still alive. From the size of the tooth it would put it at about fifty or so feet in length. That be one heck of a thing to see."

Suddenly a commotion arose among the computer scientists behind them. The two Russians turned just in time to see several of the computer screens spring to life. Their phosphorous screens were like beacons of hope. Half of their godforsaken mission was now over. Now all they had to do was download the hard drives and get the heck out of this freezing climate.

General Boris marched into the building, his breath sending trailing smoke behind him. He approached the largest of the screens and touched it faintly against its LCD surface. A slight thin smile curled as his eyes bathed in the artificial light.

"Very good," his voice deemed to the room. "Begin cloning the hard drive in duplicate. After that, wipe out every machine here."

Gaafa's head pulled back at the unusual orders. He could understand trying to salvage the facilities gathered information, but to destroy it afterwards seemed a bit shady. This whole expedition spewed of lies and deceit. By the end of all of this, the assured man would deem that he would be need of taking a long extended vacation.

The proud and enigmatic Russian General walked outside; which he was soon then approached by a lean faced soldier. The General filled his massive lungs with the cold air, holding it in until his very chest burned with lively energy. The arrival to the station had not gone according to his plans. This was not going to be the swift and militaristic operation that he was briefed on. Thankfully he had the foresight to set up two contingency stratagems.

"I understand sir we have orders," the obedient gunman, named Vaslov Chvoz, began. "But the animal has proven to be more aggressive than the previous initial reports. I managed to recover this from one of the security cameras outside without the civilians or soldiers noticing."

The battle tested young man withdrew a portable camera from the recess of his layered coat. Opening the screen visor from it's side, he showed his commanding officer the horror which befell the area. Boris watched with disdain as the machine revealed a huge and massive creature approaching the camera's viewfinder. It was gigantic, easily as large as the civilian ship that had brought them to this hellish world. It's skin was leathered and worn. Overlapping fatty hide shook and recoiled from the beast's slightest movements. It's dull cobalt blue husk shown lifelessly against the pure white contrasting snow. The most dangerous feature of the animal was the twin saber like tusks that grew from the top of its maw. They glimmered with savoring drool that was flung from left to right as it crawled forward on a heap of weight.

"Looks a like giant walrus to me," the naïve soldier spoke with laced hesitation.

"It does resemble the same creature the station had reported of a week ago," Boris firmly spat back in annoyance. "It's aggressiveness has certainly increased. Never the less, it has proved it's lethality to humans. Have the men made contact with the Iron Brokkr."

"No luck," Vaslov sighed with rue. "We lost contact about an hour ago and have yet to been able to reestablish it,"

"Where is the location of the Kirvako and the Udaloy now," the dark man hissed.

"The submarine Kirvako is about three miles west and the destroyer Udaloy is twelve miles to the south," he informed his commander.

"Tell the Udaloy to have its Helix's to be on standby. Order the Kirvako to our destination. We will use it to leave this place."

"What about the Iron Brokkr," exclaimed the young soldier in a slightly raised voice. "It might still be out there. Their radio might just be down."

"If you have been unable to establish radio communications with them for this long, then the Iron Brokkr is already gone," Boris spoke flatly with little emotion. "That creature is out there and has proved its hostility. What we have to do now is retrieve that information as soon as possible. Tell the men to be on the lookout and report to me if they see anything unusual. Tell no one of what you have seen. There is no need to get them worried if the creature does not reappear in our short stay here. Let us pray that it does not indeed."


	3. Chapter 3: Call of the Lonely

**Call of the Lonely**

Hours crawled by as the scientist worked their diligence at their terminals. Boris Yaroslav meanwhile had sat himself in silence with eyes closed. He allowed the puppets to continue their business while he would catch a few minutes of sleep. The stresses of the weather, added with the horrible visual sight of the demon that had destroyed the installation before, was enough to weaken even the most powerful of men. There was no use for him to be awake while the unaware civilians did their busy work.

Gaafa in the meantime had taken his friend by the arm and lead him away from the group. They plunged down the dark and cracked corridors of the facility. Brief flashes of luminescence from the swaying overhead lights gave limited vision to the blundering men. The entire expedition had reeked of something much darker than the military was letting on. The men outside had fortified the area with enough guns and weapons to start a small war. The general had been stringent with the scientist's work. Time was apparently a factor that was becoming more urgent and salient as time slipped by. This base was not for radar scanning, that much Gaafa had been certain of. And he was bound and determined to find out what it's true purpose was.

Turning left, the two men continued their path into sanity's requiem. The dark gloomy atmosphere was like something lifted out of a gothic tale. The howling wind seeped through the damaged building, echoing the fate that had befallen the Russian structure. A few more steps were taken before Gaffa heard the faint echo of hollow metal. The heavy set gentleman looked down to see the outline of a square door hatch laying sealed like a gate to hell in the floor.

"Um, and that would be…," Vadim questioned with cocked eyebrows. "Maybe it's the generator room? Oh maybe it's the basement where they do all the experiments on E.T.?

Gaafa ignored the young man's joke with rolling eyes. This was not a time to for jest. They did not have a lot of time to find out the lurid secrets of this place. Before they had begun their journey he had overheard one of the computer techs mention that they were close to seventy percent finished with their work. Once they were done, Gaafa was sure that the loathsome Boris Yaroslav would be announcing their leave. Gaafa could not allow this opportunity to pass him up.

Unhooking the locked latch, the door creaked with life. It took both men to open the heavy reinforced steel door, that stood as the underground room's face. Once freed, the men plunged into the dismal subterranean chamber. Their mouths gaped open in awe when their feet hit the bottom of the stairs. Across from them, sat a massive mess of lights and screens. The machinery hummed and ticked away with preprogrammed instructions, that it was carrying out beyond their creators deaths. The machine sat alone, there was nothing else in the room except for this Avalon like pillar of technology. There were dozens of screens that danced like esprit fireflies, around a ten foot wide central display. The hulking liquid plasma screen played a vibrating emerald green wave of vim, something like you would see of a recording of a sound wave would do on an electronic display.

"I have never seen anything like this," Vadim spoke lively. "The university I went to has nothing on this place. Have you seen anything like this spectacle?"

"No," Gaafa replied slowly, not taking much notice of what was even being said. "I've never seen anything like this. This technology is way more advanced then what we saw in the control room upstairs."

"Hey maybe the little green men helped them out with some of their computers if they promised to hook them up with some Vodka," the paleontologist laughed softly. "I don't know about you but this stuff has got to be worth millions. Can't believe this is in the budget for the Russian government. Maybe the Americans, you know they love to spend that printed cash."

Vadim continued to babble on, with joke after joke, but Gaafa had no time to listen. Creeping forward the large volcanologist placed his hand against the buzzing machine. It felt warm, yet alien at the same time. The very essence of the machine surged and raked into his heart. It beheld a purpose that was too complex for either men to understand at this time. Yet, there was an individual whom would be able to help them he realized. Moving with frantic speed, the chubby man moved all around the device, searching for something in particular.

"Hey, hey, what the hell do you think your doing," his companion gasped. Don't touch that thing, what if that old sourpuss comes down here and sees us fooling around with this."

But the words fell on deaf ears. His fingers groped around until they finally found what they were looking for. The man's eyes widened with joy at the sight of the small metal box that was attached to a few colored wires. Quickly pulling the circuit packed tendons away, he ripped the box from it's housed spot. Gaafa examined it momentarily for damage. Seeing none, he popped the valuable item into the wool lining of his overcoat.

"Dude, you are so going to jail for that man!" Vadim spoke with irrational fear.

"I don't care," Gaafa replied heatedly. "This base was doing something very important and I don't think it was good. I got a friend that might be able to deceiver this and tell me what this program was doing. There is too many unexplained things here. The guns, the secrecy, the moving volcanic activity, and this base itself. It looks like it was pulverized by a giant. I mean where did everyone go? Just for a little stroll out into the freezing tundra! Something happened here and might happen again and I think everyone has a right to know what our government has been up to." Vadim was about to continue to raise his voice of decent when suddenly they both heard a voice call out from above.

"The downloading is complete," one of the scientist had blurted out. "The hard drive is cloned."

Gaafa and Vadim exchanged fleeting, worried glances. Their time was over. They had to get back to the group before their absences were noticed. Like lightening they shot up the stairs and moved back through the labyrinth of gloom. Gaafa cursed under his breath as they neared their target. He could swear that he could hear the laced footfalls of the general. Seconds passed before they stopped at a doorway that lead into the control room. Through the opening they could see one of the eager faced civilians hand Boris a plastic encased external hard drive. The man smiled with little triumph as he mechanically packed it beneath the layers of his garb.

"Well done gentlemen," he spoke gently. "You have done your government very proud. What you did today will forever shape the power that Russia will attain once again."

The general was about to speak once again when he was interrupted by a frantic voice from behind. Jogging into the room, the young soldier Vaslov stopped just short of his commanding officer. Fear was bulging from the man's eyes. A cringing primordial fright had grasped his mortal frame like a bird of prey upon a mouse. Sweat dripped from his brow. His chest heaved with great labored breaths.

"It's here," he fumbled with the words. "It's about seven hundred yards to the north and it's coming towards us."

Vaslov tried to continue with the bad news before the air was shattered by a howling roar. The winds carried the fowl cry through every bone of the men in the station. It was a bellow that screamed of ages long since gone. It was a sound that accompanied death. It was a call that mortal ears were never meant to hear.

"Tell the men to ready for an attack," Boris snarled. "And I want you to get the Kirvako and the Udaloy on the radio now and inform them of our situation."

Swerving his head around the room, the general spied the gawky fossil expert in a doorway. Taking great strides he closed the distance between him and the now cowering man. Boris Yaroslav reached over with a hand of iron and gripped Vadim's shoulder like a vice. Lowering his head down so close that the peak of his cap pressed against the brow of the young man, the general spoke with cold demeanor.

"Now you are going to earn your fare on this little excursion doctor," the brawny military born being growled.

* * *

><p>The air was cold like always. The icy crisp wind licked and beat the frozen tundra with claws of frozen might. The rich blue sky paled in comparison to the stark white and angelic lay of land that stretched for miles on end. Normally this would be a dead zone, an area that was devoid of mortal life. An area that drew upon the silence of solitude to keep it company. Now, it was unmarred by a forbidding life form. For millions of years the glaciate land had been it's prison. Now, through ignorance of beings, wishing upon manifesting hopes of being gods, the creature was free. In it's time it was the sadist master of it's territory. Any animal that sought comfort in it's domain would be exalted with it's own laborious demise. Death was not an uncomforting emotion to this beast. It was an act that had been repeated, lustfully, many of times.<p>

Releasing several lengthy and bellowing roars into the frosty sky, the behemoth that had been dubbed Maguma by several of the previous scientists that worked at Mjöllnir's Summit as a joke, moved across the ashen expanse. The beast looked like hell's version of a walrus. It's yellow hued eyes were large and bulbous. It's body swayed from side to side as it wobbled forward on huge prodigious webbed feet. It's twin saber tusks were a mirror of prehistoric evolution at it's perfection. Maguma paid little attention to the algid temperatures that beat against it's layers of suety blubber. To Maguma, this was home, this was his silent and wonderfully rejoiced speck of manor that he would fight tooth and nail to keep. He had visited this area of his kingdom before. Maguma had crushed the vile smelling animals that had attempted to carve out a den for themselves. The giants fury had seen to wrathfully trample their ignorant stupor. None had survived it's systematic and savage act of barbarism. It would seem these vermin were laggard in their learning. The hulking kaiju would have to once again prove it's vigor and make these tiny beings rue their decision to return.

Moving now with greater speed, Maguma could now spy the low lying remains of the buildings he had graced before. Around it's trampled walls, scores of tiny pests were scouring about. The walrus' previous attack had been quick and decisive. This time, Maguma would let the assault linger. Perhaps then the tiny pets would learn their place and flee from his world finally. Maguma released one final bellowing roar that hung in the air like Damocles' dagger. It was a call that harked and warned of the brute violence that was to take place in moments to come.

* * *

><p>Mjöllnir's Summit was full of terror and dismay. The once calm and proud Russian soldiers now quivered with fear as they clutched to their guns and weapons. Their sanity was hanging by a thread as the oncoming horror clamored again and again with roaring mirth. The only person that was steadfast was the lantern-jawed Boris Yarosl<span>a<span>v. The proud man stood against the slamming sounds of cries with an emotionless expression. His second in charge Vaslov wore a face of scowl. Boris could see the hate and anger swell within the young man at the creature that was racing to them on thundering strides. The inexperienced soldier was naïve and quick to anger. Boris saw a younger version of himself in the lad. And for the first time since that accursed mission began, that memory brought a quick and flickering smile to his face. But it was quickly wash away as the situation at hand interjected itself upon his quiet thoughts.

The computer techs, who had gathered outside after hearing of the devilish roar, gasped in awe at the demon that rose against them. Vadim meanwhile could only look on with strange respect. Through the binoculars that the General had handed him, he could make out the titanic features on the kaiju. His childhood dreams of seeing some prehistoric beast where answered. Yet at that moment, he was not so sure that is what he wanted.

"So what is it?" Boris Yaroslav asked the young paleontologist with guttered authority.

"To be honest I am not quit sure," Vadim replied cautiously. "It is certainly a prehistoric member of the _Odobenus rosmarus_ species but it's just too big. There is no fossil on record that would adhere to the animal being as large as it is. Most likely it is an unknown species but golly the size is just so impossible! He must be nearly fifty meters from foot to brow. Man I cant believe I am seeing this!"

"Sorry to cut your enthusiasm short doctor but I believe that we have situation here," the General spat with annoyance laced growls. "This creature, Maguma, has already destroyed this base one time, and it looks like he is intending to do that yet again. If you can provide us with information of how we can attack this monster, it would be greatly appreciated."

Vadim's jaw dropped in astonishment from the military personal's question. He was about to raise a voice of protest about attacking such a rare animal, but a forbidding glare from the General turned his spine to jello. He looked around at the armament that was positioned around the squat ugly building. Some powerful machine guns, bolted down mortar launchers, and bazookas.

"There's nothing here," he began to inform the commander in charge, of the bad news. "Modern day walrus's can have skin and blubber up to six inches thick. This Maguma, by the size of him can have skin and blubber up to six feet! There's no way any of your guns here can get through all that. All your weapons are going to do is just going to piss him off.

Suddenly the rolling sky was filled with a new noise. Replacing the demon's howling warbling cries, was the sound of low rhythmic like puttering. The clamor became louder and louder with each passing second. Craning his chiseled face skyward, Boris Yaroslav saw the approach of Russia's finest. Cutting through the polar heavens, a squad of twelve weaponized Ka-29 Helix class helicopters approached. Normally these machines would be armed with anti submarine torpedoes and surveillance, but Boris Yaroslav had them outfitted with more appropriate technology. Word had reached the government a week before that Mjöllnir's Summit had experienced a run in with a dangerous kaiju that had surfaced. The General at that time had felt that UB-20 rockets and fuel-air bombs, added with the gun turrets, were more than enough to push back any animal. Yet, now as he stood on that icy tundra, he began to question his decision. The monster was massive and dwarfed his imagination.

Maguma, continued to howl and rage with unbridled fury as Boris Yaroslav reached down and took a black walkie-talkie from it's resting holster. Barking into the intercom, he gave the order for his army to begin the attack. Several the buzzing machines of man, arched downward and strafed across the walrus' hide with their heated metal. Hundreds of steel jacketed lead poured from the hollowed gun turrets, raining their cold and tasteless lives against tens of thousands of tons of rolling flesh. The monster bellowed into the skies, letting his pain linger and roll like a volcano erupting. Pain was not the feeling that assaulted his senses. It was annoyance. The stings of these pesky bug's bites gnawed at his muscled body. Craning skyward Maguma snapped and chewed at the machines with no avail. It was a vain attempt because the pilots knew full and well not to come close to the animal's wrathful fury.

The next strike to come was much more suiting for Boris Yaroslav eyes. He growled in disgust at the ineffectiveness of the 7.22 mm machine guns, but gleamed with pride when the rockets were used. Salvo's of tempered iron were hastened into Maguma's hide. The blossoming explosions dotted and ravaged the animals skin. Scarlet flames and searing metal tore into the layers of blubber. Maguma's cries now became more frantic and louder as his senses were rent with pain. It was a bearable ache but the animal could see small and gory wounds began to dot his body. Maguma would not be push back from his goal. It would take more than the teething bits of these pint-sized pests. His beastly eyes glared from above, down towards the squat building ahead. Throwing back his head to the sapphire skies Maguma shrieked his lust. Soon the creature was back on the move, barreling through the waves of baptizing rockets, towards his destined target.

New realizing fear gripped the soldiers that stood their ground at Mjöllnir's Summit. The helicopters attacks seemed to do nothing more than to angry the beast. Now the creature was moving with new speed and greater hate. It would not be long before it would trample their pathetic lives into the death ridden snow. The General was the only one who still stood looking on as if nothing had truly happened. He was studying the epic battle that was raging. His time-aged mind analyzed the scene, trying to piece together a plan of attack that would be successful against this elephantine foe. The military vehicles at hand did not have the required power to overcome this beastly god that raged it's might before them. It would not occur to him the answer was already conceived from the most of unlikely minds at his side.

"The ground!" Gaafa exclaimed with surprised intensity.

The General spun around on his heels and eyed the scientist whom he so distastefully hated. He took two ogre sized steps and lowered his face to meet the man's own. His ashen eyes daggered themselves, looking into the man's soul.

"The ground beneath him," Gaafa spoke with courage that amazed even him. "Look at the ground beneath the monster. Watch when a missile hits it."

Boris Yaroslav turned once again too see the battlefield. He watched closely as one of the dozens of rockets hit the tundra beneath the monster. The ground quaked and cracked. A small branching rift danced across the ground's surface. It was utterly insignificant by itself. Hardly something to even bother to take notice of.

"Let the choppers hit the ground beneath him," Gaafa began again. "If we can damage enough of the ice, we can make him fall in. With his sheer weight it shouldn't be that difficult to break enough of it."

"Then we will let the Kirvako finish him off," the Russian military man half mumbled under his breath to himself.

Lifting the walkie-talkie to his wind chapped lips, he outlined his next plan of attack for the pilots of the Helix choppers overhead; that still continued to drench their armament with little avail. He then testily spoke to the captain of the Kirvako to prepare for the creature's return to the sea. As a response, the lead helicopter tilted his air vehicle from left to right; signaling his orders were well received. Within seconds, the war machines began their offense again. The belly doors of the choppers creaked open and birthed from them a hail of small sable black bombs. The tiny fragments dropped from the sky and rained their explosive lives upon the now startled kaiju. The land ruptured as hundreds of flowering fireballs graced its surface. The ice buckled and cracked beneath the unnatural power and flames of man's destructive maelstrom. Maguma bellowed forlorn screams at his attackers as he felt the ground beneath him give. The sheer weight of the gigantic beast was too much. The floe broke and shattered. The sere toned creature was sent plummeting into the icy dark coal depths of the Pacific Ocean. Shimmering seas was sent spiraling into the sky from Maguma's wake.

The General beamed with victory. His planning and preparedness had paid off. He did not congratulate Gaafa for his input, in fact he paid little heed to the man's presence at all. Trudging through the still amazed masses of civilians, Boris Yaroslav approached his second in command. His face was once again a frozen statue of frigid vigor. Lowering his tone to barely audible levels, he ordered the final instructions that was to be taken upon the limply damaged facility. Vaslov Chvoz saluted his commanding officer quickly and darted towards a group of sentry soldiers. Within seconds, they too were on the move. Reaching and riffling through a few unmarked black bags beside them, they soon pulled free several loaf-sized yellow logs from their resting place. Gaafa and Vadim were far from being military experts, but they had seen enough action films to recognize what C4 explosive looks like.

"What the hell are you doing!" Gaafa exclaimed with feint pitch.

"Our final orders," Boris Yaroslav replied with little hesitation. "That earthquake will soon hit this area and our government does wish to chance that anything will be salvageable for any country to find. This base has served it's purpose and so have we. Once my men have finished wiring the facility, we will began our trek to the nearby Destroyer, the Udaloy. That creature Maguma will soon be finished off by the Kirvako submarine that is beneath us now. You should be thrilled Mr, Tolya. Your going to be going home soon."


	4. Chapter 4: Twins of Cold

**Twins of Cold**

Akim Ekk pulled his cyclic stick gingerly to the left once again. Depressing the anti-torque peddle slightly, he let up on some of the engine's puttering heart. He tiled his machine and looked down upon the teeming area around Mjöllnir's Summit. From his Helix chopper he could see Boris Yaroslav standing like a statue against the chilling wind. The sublime commander had requested that Akim and his squadron remain in flight around the base while his soldiers prepared the C4 explosives in the bleak and splintered building. The submarine Kirvako was entering and preparing to finish off the bawling creature that he had sent into the sea. The tusked demon's image still burned in his bewildered mind. The violence and hatred it poured from it's being would forever be a residual aphotic memory. One of a dozen war torn thoughts that gnawed at his belting soul.

Suddenly a unusual, but familiar beeping, sounded through his cramped cabin. His aged military wit had recognized the resonance almost immediately. His eyes darted to the radar. The screen had come alive with a large white bleep. The circular signal was moving with great speed towards his location. Akim blinked with puzzlement. The size of the shape was enormous. Far to big to be anything that could fly. He had not seen a shape of this size since the creature that he had just previously engaged in battle. Akim's mind jokily pictured the walrus beast flying. It was a momentarily childish thought that came about because of shattered nerves. It would be the last pleasant concept that would laud his mind.

In the next instant his world was rent sightless. A gust of howling ivory wind from out of nowhere, brought an icy wall that sheathed and glossed over his windows. His hands struggled to keep his flight controllers stable. The powerful hurricane force drafts battered and toyed with his chopper. Within seconds it was over, but the damage was already done. Through his taught muscles he could feel the engine die and the whirling blades of the aircraft come to a slowing pace. He could not peer from out of his bay window, but Akim already knew what was out there; what was fast approaching. The sky and ground were exchanging places. He closed his eyes blissfully moments before his body was alive with flames.

High above, the rest of Akim's squadron watched in staggering horror as their proud captain was sent crashing into the snow covered lands. They had observed with creeping lassitude when the bellowing gargoyle streaked from out of the banking clouds. They gazed shockingly when the creature breathed it's fowl icy breath upon the Helix airship. They starred doleful as the chopper was transformed into a ghostly block of ice in the blink of an eye. Her rudders and blades were rendered motionless. There was no hope of survival for Akim against the coldly grasp of this new nightmare that had appeared. The specter of hate flapped its mammoth fleshy wings to keep it's form hovering over the spiraling stygian fuel-fed cloud that arose from the mass of wrecked metal in the snow. It allowed a low gurgling snarl to reverberate through it's muscled banshee throat. Peguila had arrived to Mjöllnir's Summit.

* * *

><p>Beneath the ice, a war with another monster from Earth's past, was already in full swing. The dull leaden tubular body of the Oscar-II class nuclear submarine, the Kirvako, glided through the Arctic Sea with phantom prowess. Her torpedo tubes were already filled with the azure gushing waters. Pressurized and stocked, they loomed ever so closer to their target; like a killer awaiting in the shadows with a savage blade. Inside the ship was devoid of noise; save for the labored breathing of her crew that dripped with terror laced sweat. The captain Commander Boyra Witte, stood by the screen that depicted the photonic mast's readout, with unyielding cobalt eyes. The incongruous beast known as Maguma, was just short of half a mile away from the bow of the ship. The creature made no attempt to flee from the Kirvako. Instead the beast seemed unperturbed. It was waiting at a distance, for the man-made ship to approach closer.<p>

"Lets see how you stand up against something a bit bigger than those Helix bombs," the captain hissed sarcastically through his parted teeth. "Fire torpedoes one through four!"

The sailor that manned the control panel wasted no time in doing what his superior officer had barked aloud with authority. Depressing a few switches, the timid man sent away four VA-111 Shkval torpedoes. The thin elongated pods streamed through the water with little effort. The supercavitation design allowed the sage green machines to sliced through the water with no drag from the sea to hold them back. The brisk nature of the weapons was enough to catch the growling Maguma off guard. Maguma on the land was a bulbous and awkward animal. Yet in the sea the walrus was an archangel among the heavens. Flapping his webbed hands and feet, the monster was able to pull most of his layered bulk out of the path of the oncoming weapons. Three of the ammo rockets passed by, but the forth made contact.

Searing waves of multilayered anguish washed into Maguma as the munitions detonated against him. Scarlet blood bubbled and oozed from the creature's gory wound. Life given sanguine fluid clouded the brittle icy water around the kaiju. Though through the haze Maguma could see the bringer of his pain. Hovering motionlessly against the dank sea, the Kirvako submarine released another set of saddled torpedoes against him. It was not a mistake he would let happen again. Grunting with effort Maguma rocketed his frame around the jetting shells and brought his tonnage against the ship's hull. Klaxon alarms and protesting metal, screeched in fury from the behemoth's battering weight. Inside, men and machinery were tossed about like toys. Sparks exploded from the computer terminals as deep rose red lights mirrored themselves in the control room. Boyra Witte attempted to bring order to the chaos but it was long past that time.

Lurching back his head, Maguma prepared for one final strike. Snapping forward, cobra like, the unnatural beast speared it's ivory tusked into the submarine. The lengthy javelins tore and gouged through the machinery. Layer upon layer of reinforced steel were perforated in malice. The anew rushing seawater, poured into the mortal wound. It's corrosive natural of salt racked and destroyed exposed wiring. Decompression began to set in and the Kirvako began to bend. Plating bucked and caved in under the combined assault of the sea and the monster. Maguma's soulless orbed eyes reflected utter loath at the machine's crushing can, like form. Time, measured in heartbeats, thumped before the grumbling beast as it pulled free it's oil stained teeth. The ancient being watched in disdain as the war machine dipped in cripple manner. The bow the submarine drooped forward and plunged headlong into the blackness. As the depth's increased so did the pressure. Creaking metal popped and sounded in agony. In moments, the Kirvako imploded. Hundreds of men's screams, laid upon their watery battered forms. Their shells drifting about the frigid waters, lifeless as crumbled falling leaves in the dead of winter.

Maguma sighed in satisfaction. He had been victorious but the adversary had taken it's toll upon him. Even now his wound still fogged and clouded the immersion around him. He was about to dive away and give his injuries time to heal when his delicate ears picked up on something. The medium of the water beat a bizarre cry into him. The demon's cackling surrounded and pressed against his form. It was from above. It was from the area that he was just banished from. Was this a foe worthy of his ripened might? Was this just another stinging beast that harkened for him to come and put it out of it's pathetic life? Snapping it's savoring jaws, Maguma kicked his way to the surface, rocketing himself to the opening in the ice that he was cast down from. This howling intruder would met an even more terrible fate than the Kirvako did. This opponent's pain would be forced to linger. Maguma would be the director of this creature's fate.

* * *

><p>Gaafa pulled on Vad<span>i<span>m's arm as he jumped into the fractured doorways of the squat broken facility of Mjöllnir's Summit. Both men's hearts threaten to break free from their chests. Their lungs gasped and burned. The shooting began again, forcing the duo to lower their heads and cover their ears. From his vantage point, Gaafa could see the faces of the alarmed soldiers as they emptied more explosives and bullets against the newly arrived horror. Mortar fire, slags of heated metal, and explosive shells, dotted the creature's form . The sleet of vehement alloy struck again and again against the monster with little effect.

Peguila had landed soon after he destroyed the lead Helix chopper. The creature of macabre, racked it's taloned feet into the earth, digging in, as the rest of the flying armada sprung to life against him. The silvery machines buzzed and darted through the ethereal sky. Each helicopter had turned their full fury against the horned kaiju. Slews of bombs, bullets, and rockets bleached forth in cascading waves of power. At instances, so great the assault had become, that Peguila was forced to cover his vile head behind his fleshy devil wings. Cowering his countenance, the beast waited for the lull in attack. The wait was not a long one.

The Russian helicopters stopped their prodigious attack to deem how successful they were. It was a mistake that Peguila was cunning enough to exploit. The creature, a fixture of hell's winter, threw back it's scaly wings and gasped it's visage into the sky. Opening his toothy maw, Peguila unleashed a wave of icy hate. Spiraling and twirling, the frosty gusts of breath lanced into the arctic sky. All of the gathered airships were caught in the frothing vapor. Much like their beloved captain, their machines too transformed into frozen tombs. The machine's blades slowed to a crawl, leaving gravity to take control. The General, Boris Yaroslav, could not see the pilot's contorted faces of torture through the iced over windows. Though he knew death well enough when it presented itself in so sourly of moments. He had seen the ravaged faces of those whom had greet demise on the battlefield, in his debacle past. An unbound tear dripped from his eyes, as he watched the Udaloy's battalion of helicopters fall from the sky like cast away stones. Blossoming fires arose from each of their wreckages. The helix machines were transfigured into blooming fiery pyres. Their heaping bodies billowed smoke and soot. It was an image that would have maraud even the bravest of hearts.

The soldiers on the ground turned and ran for phantasmal safety in the partially destroyed faculty they had arrived at earlier that day. Their sudden hysteric and crowd like movements drew the yellow bulbous and vicious eyes of the hissing Peguila. The implausible brute lowered his chiseled face and opened his terrible maw once again. A baptism of ice like fire was to commence. Issuing forth, the freezing gale came once again. Coalescing and mingling itself with the creature's heinous roars, the blast of white fury blanketed soldiers and civilians alike. No difference in attacker or observer were made. All were covered from head to foot in the glaciate typhoon. Skin blacked from frostbite and screams froze on motionless lungs. When all was said and done, all that was left was a parade of icy figures. The standing dead were ghost like. Their gelid forms reflected the streaming rays of sunlight that shown from the heavens. The people of Russia were now a gathered city of stale existence. A testament to vim that only god's could wield.

Boris Yaroslav and his subordinate, Vaslov Chvoz, were the only two souls who had escaped the swamping basin of death. They had jumped through the same doorway that Gaafa and Vadim had moments before dashed into. Pressing his back against the cracked wall, the General struggled to regain his composure. Boris' eyes scanned the room to find whom else might have abscond from the newest of arctic beasts that had arrived.

"Ok, I don't know what the hell that thing is!" Vadim cursed breathlessly. "There is no record of anything like that in the fossil records. I mean for one how in the word can it fly with those heavy wings and how the heck can it freeze things like that I mean that's just impossible!"

The young paleontologist continued to ramble on aimlessly about how improbably the monster Peguila was; much to the muted replies of his fellow survivors. Vaslov shook uncontrollably in fear. Boris was tempering his breathing, regaining his resolve to be as clear as the stars that burned in the night sky. Gaafa was merely looking out a shattered window at the stomping behemoth that graced death upon all whom stood against it.

"What do we do?" Gaafa sighed weakly as he turned to face the Russian commander. He searched the man for some sort of answer, but none came. Only mirrored eyes reflected the same question that Boris was obviously wanting to ask as well. This place was the ninth ring of hell. This was the frozen lake of Cocytus. It had encircled their souls and was siphoning fever from their very spiritual heart. Things could not get any worse, at least so they thought.

A familiar roar resounded across the sky. A rolling wrathful cry that exalted it's will upon the expansion. The Russian men quickly jumped to their feet to join Gaafa's petrified focus. From behind Peguila, in a jagged gaping hole in the ice, the monster Maguma was waist deep in the stench ridden brine sea. They could see a large yawing wound that dribbled blood from it's left shoulder. The creature must have stamped out the nuclear submarine Kirvako. At least, it did not triumph unscathed, Boris Yaroslav's mind growled in contempt at the beast.

Maguma snapped at the air blusteringly as it pulled the rest of his mammoth bulk from the sea. Shaking it's form, the walrus sent torrents of sparking ocean cascading from it's folding layers of blubber. Peering white saucers smoldered with rancor beneath the beast's brow. Maguma's whiskers twitched and flickered at the odium scent of the bluish-green hued creature that flapped it's voluminous wings before him. His brief departure had left an opportunity for another intruder to step into his secluded world.

Peguila thundered into the cavern sky, waving his arms, thrashing in agitated fury. The tiny carrion insects had been dealt with. Now a new sullied stench was brought upon him, carried on the abdominal quadruped that inched closer and closer with each bulbous step. The winged demon's mind flashed with dimly lit memories. Ages ago, lifetimes ago, this was one of the many artic monstrosity's that birthed from his sliver of the world. In such a hellish cold lay, only the largest and most powerful would be allowed to live and spawn. Battles and wars were engaged daily. Peguila's life was forged in the heat of abhorring enmity. Digging in his clawed feet into the snow parched earth, the chartreuse monster began a titanic struggle that had not been bared upon the North Pole since the twinkling dawn of time.

The horned beast charged with cries of mirth and in seconds was upon the bracing Maguma. Buffeting his muscular fleshed wings against the walrus' bulk, Peguila wrestled with the heavy foe. Snapping with tusked bites, the beast of the skies gnawed and worried the fatty body of the stunned Maguma. Digging in his crooked scythe like claws upon his wings, Peguila dug in for better footholds. Sinew and muscle cut and snapped under the deepening dart barbs. He would rend this foe piece by piece. This creature would find it's carcass strewn across his domain and feed his ardor for centuries to come.

Blood trickled from dozens of bites inflicted upon him, but Maguma stood mountain like against the attack. Lowering his head; curling his potent brawn, the kaiju walrus showed the would be attack what true power really was. Snapping his barreled chest muscles and neck, Maguma cast and threw Peguila away to the side. The flapping demon struggled to rise from it's back, but the web footed animal would not allow such an opportune mistake to be made. Wallowing his massive bulk, the creature fell upon his appalling rival. He could feel the failing strikes and nibs of the creature beneath him, but they were far fewer this time around. Maguma reeled back his head like a cobra ready to strike. A brief grunt of rage resounded through his guttered throat before he struck down with his massive tusks.

The twin blades of enriched bone pierced the left wing of the trapped Peguila. The monster screeched in utter dismay. Maguma had brought about an unfamiliar feeling to him. Pain, an odd concept that had not graced Peguila in millions of years. The beast struggled under the odious titan's weight. Clawing strikes and gnashing bites were not availing to his release. Peguila's cold heart throbbed and beat with renewed vigor. From deep within he could feel his infernal might rise. A regal power that deemed to reveal it's unbound zeal. Prickling specks of ice and cold wormed themselves from the belly of his vile slush. Opening his toothy jaws, Peguila unleashed his bestowed gift from the god's upon his opponent. Ceaseless and fowl raging ice poured from between his yellowed teeth.

The typhoon winds pelted Maguma's body and face. This was an unnatural cold that he had not before felt. He could feel his skin burn and blacken beneath the swarming boreal. It was too much, and forced the bullish creature to retreat from his near victory. Shunning his head and backing away, Maguma was pushed further and further into withdraw from the pummeling frost. It seemed ages had passed before the cackling biped creature stopped in it's raid. Maguma glared heatedly at the newly arisen Peguila. The creatures were back in the same position they were before they began their war. Only weeping bloodied wounds and charred flesh signaled that anything had happened before.

"Looks like stalemate," Commander Boris spoke dryly. "Lets hope they just kill each other and end this wrenched hell."

"Now I guess we know what the Japanese feel like," Vadim joked, trying to make light of the recent kaiju attacks that had threaten the oriental country in the past years. It was a joke on deaf ears. The young man backed away from the window and began to pace the room out of nervous habit. He was witnessing something that only writers could ever depict. A bloody battle of titans that nightmares could only manifest. It wasn't until then that a horrible realization birthed in mind. He raced over to his friend Gaafa and faced him with wide white eyes that reflected grasped knowledge.

"The earthquake!" he breathed deathly. "It's still coming here!"

Gaafa, as well as the two soldiers dropped their jaws in awe at the startling subject. Through all the multitudes of terrible happenings of late, the men had completely forgotten about one of the main reasons they were here. Gaafa cursed himself for letting transpiring events to overtake his scientific mind. He scanned the room, desperately looking for his computer that tracked the seismic anomaly. Fear gripped his being for he could not locate the device. It was then he remembered upsettingly where it was. He bolted for the still open door, his gaze cutting across the white expanding grounds. In the distance, he could see his satchel lying next to one of the snow covered jeeps.

The hefty man wasted not a second thought as he plunged himself into the wasteland. Behind, he could hear the faint calls of the others that ordered him to come back. He ignored them and pressed on. Not daring to look upon the warring beasts, Gaafa focused on getting back his seismic reader. Zigzagging from left to right, he dodged and moved around the still standing ice-covered Russian soldiers that littered the field. He could not help but feel the deepest of sorrow over their deaths. Their existence was everlasting, a frozen memorial to the inexcusable product of murder. Their eyes, wide open pools of lingering pain. Gaafa turned his head away, and plowed through the forest of the dead. He dropped to his knees when the finally reached the mangled jeep. As he rummaged through his backpack, he could hear the ominous beeping sound that harkened a coming horror. Pulling the machine free, he flipped open the screen of the computer. A short gasp leapt from his throat. The tiny red dot, which had been the trophy of his work, was within a mile of their position. On the side of the geographical layout, countless numbers and symbols rambled down the page. Gaafa did not have much time to make sense of the waterfall of information, though he could tell from some key figures that the epicenter was growing in strength. Not only was it traveling towards them, it was rising from beneath the Earth.

In an age of science and reasoning, belief and fate were oftentimes cast out. Rudimentary ideals of hope were squandered. Yet, there were times, when even the most faithless would have to give credence to divine intervention. Gaafa grabbed at the flatted wheel of the man made jeep in panic as the ground began to quake. The Earth turned and shifted beneath his feet, rocking from a power that was pulling itself from the bowls of hell. So great was the rippling strength, that it had broken up the raging monsters that turned the landscape into a tattered graveyard of men. Peguila and Maguma cocked their heads, looking about the rattling continent. Each grunted and growled at the revealing force. Mjöllnir's Summit quivered and crumbled in it's weakened state. From his vantage point Gaafa could see the ducking heads of his commands as they attempted to dodge the failing debris.

Moments passed before the shaking subsided. The earthquake had been as quick as it was vicious. Sections of the Russian facility had caved in and the ground had split around it. Gaafa struggled to regain his facade after the incredible display of strength. He had not noticed that the blaring crimson dot had not faded with the ceasing of the earthquake. The rose-hued circle continued to beat, growing in size as it told the machine it was rising from the seabed floor. Something was rocketing through the cold black depths. Swimming through the icy waters, tumbling and churning the damp aqueous seas in it's wake. Powerful muscled clad arms and legs pulled its form towards the surface, it's extending tail giving swift speed to it's journey.

Gaafa screamed in mortal fright when the shadowy form smashed through the ice close to him. It's armored body ripped itself from the sea, as it's crocodilian head unleashed ages of primordial cries that had not been heard upon the planet since the age of the great thunder lizards. It's head was a mask of forged and fanged savagery. The tip of it's snout ended in a short powerful curved horn. The back of it's head, crested in a crown of five larger hooked horns. Roped muscle and bone pulled and burned as the monster heaved it's quadruped form unto the ice's surface. Now the true testament was shown of the creature's being. It's back was an immense shell of bony spikes. The mass of needled bone, laid like a bed a nails. From behind, the creature swayed a muscled reptilian tail. Along it too, grew the same wild spikes that had spawn from it's shell. The tail ended in a lancing skewer. A dinosaur, alive and well, now had entered Gaafa's shrinking world.

"I don't believe it!" Vadim exclaimed in child enthusiasm. "It's an Angurisaurus! I can't believe it, it's a real life Angurisaurus. They were thought to be extinct when the age of the dinosaurs ended. I just…I cant believe this is happening!"

Boris and Vaslov stood petrified at the sight of the giant reptile. A gathering of a trifecta of monsters had taken place. Each that had appeared was worse the one before. In an icy world that was devoid of life, it was strange to see that it was now teeming with some of the greatest powers that had breathed upon the planet. The General turned and faced the gloating Vadim. His face was split into a toothy grin that reminded him of a child with his new toy.

"What is that thing?" he questioned weakly.

"It's an Angurisaurus," the young man shot back, still smiling. "It's a dinosaur. It's a offshoot member of the Ankylosaurus family. I guess you can call it Anguirus for short. It's a herbivore believe it or not and it is a tunneling creature kind of like a mole. He must have been the cause of this "moving" earthquake. My god though, the size of this one is just as impossible as that creature Maguma. There is nothing on record of an individual of his species reaching that size. It's not surprising that Gaafa's seismic computers were able to pick up on him. At that size, he must have been tunneling at a great depth in the Earth."

The paleontologist looked out upon the snow capped land. A trio of roars lifted and blanketed the area, clamoring and resounded in the hearts of those who were unfortunate enough to bare witness to their forms. Only one thought now scorched and burned the human's minds. Who would win this struggle of life. And what would the winner do to them once all is said and done.


	5. Chapter 5: A Gathering of Three

**A Gathering of Three**

Boris Yaroslav looked out at the field of monsters. Each was stamping and roaring at the other with centuries of built of hate. Peguila and Maguma had back away and stood weary of the new creature Anguirus. The snarling saurian was impressive in stature but a complete anachronism to world. A beast that was out of place as well as time itself. He pawed and tore at the ground like a bull preparing to charge. A boundless call had awoken Anguirus from his slumber. It had beckoned for him to come. Indeed he had answered that call and found purpose in it's cry. The beast looked around for the source of the signal. The twin horrors that challenged him could not be it's creator. Browsing the area the dinosaur spied the only other form of life there was.

Huddling beneath a pile of shredded metal, a tiny creature shivered at the sight of his omnipotent form. He cocked his scaly head to the left and let a low hissing breath pour from between his pursed fangs. Could this be the vast summoner? Could this truly pitiful and insignificant insect, wield the euphonic heed that seduced him to this wretched world. The tiny human coward as the animal lowered his head even closer to him; allowing his steaming eupnoea to waft over the man's huddled frame.

Gaafa's eyes were moist with tears of fear. Yet, he stood his ground. He did not run at the sight of the ancient thunder lizard. Wiping the terror from his cheeks, Gaafa stood and faced the growling Anguirus that sat before him. He had seen death all too often in his life; especially as of recent. He was tired of running from the idea of life's conclusion. If he was to die today, than let him greet it first, instead of it addressing him before. The monster, whom had just arrived, seemed different than the other giants who raged about the land. It did not seem to be filled with the same anger and lust for finis. It seemed to swell with a different set of feelings. An awareness that was to be embraced and cherished among the death that was wroth about on the stained white fields.

Peguila stepped forward and roared for Anguirus to fear him. Saliva dripped from his tusks, dropping into pools of savoring lust. Anguirus craned his head around and let a rumbling and throaty growl surge through his being. Pupils flared in the dinosaur's red corneas. They focused with assassins intent. Turning around his body, the armored dinosaur slammed it's left taloned paw across the ground. From Gaafa's view point, the great lizard looked more like a pit pull steadying it's body before it's master in guardian stance. Anguirus had braced itself between the two other howling demons and Gaafa.

Unleashing a long honking roar, the reptile began it's attack. Hind legs pumped like pistons; forearms ripped into the snowy earth. The animal charged with speed that belittled it's size. Hundreds of meters were covered in-between gasps of rasping breath as Anguirus hit his target. Lowering his horned head, the monster charged into the stunned Peguila like a scaly battling ram. Tonnage of blood mesh and muscle clapped into the sapphire skies. The winged demon, who had dealt out oblivion time and time again, was sent flying. It's massive bulk slammed into the snow, rifting it's way across a half mile of scarred earth. Several lacerations on Peguila wept blood from Anguirus' feverous horns. Rolling to one side, Peguila struggled to regain breath from his battered body. The god of ice had been sent tumbling. His titan form had touched the ground in such a disgraceful manner. An atrocity that seared and honed his soul.

The shelled dinosaur next turned his attention to the now moving mountain of Maguma. The steel hued walrus was waddling on a path to the attacking Anguirus. The ancient leviathan was already prepared for the blobish creature. Reaching out with his aged mind, Anguirus willed his tail to strike upon the saber-toothed walrus. Swiping left and right, the mace like whip struck the now staggered Maguma. Clubbing strikes ripped torrid flesh from the mammal. The rows of pike thorns ravaged Maguma's blubbered form. Not since the tasteless and fowl submarine had Maguma experienced this sort of pain. The creature braced for an opening to present itself, which thankfully was not a long wait.

Biting down, Maguma gripped the dinosaur's wavering tail in it's bear trap maw. Teeth sliced and crushed as Maguma further deepened his vice like grip. Anguirus howled and barked in pain and frustration. Vainly he tried to pull his tail from the clamping webbed monster, but Maguma had too deep of a hold. Tapping into the reserve of fountain strength that blazed in his body, the walrus heaved his muscled neck and upper body to the side. Anguirus was sent hurtling into the air. Like an ancient Olympiad, Maguma flung the spiky foe such as a ball and mace that would be thrown into the blood soaked arena sky. Anguirus crashed into the earth and rolled before finally coming to rest on his squat belly. The dragon pulled itself up and shook it's horned head befuddled. The walrus titan was easily the largest of the gathered combatants. Strength was underestimated with this creature. Blustering his longing roar again, the dinosaur charged back into the harried fray.

Maguma screamed in pain as the reptile slammed his brownish warty hide into his chest. The nasal horn dug and wretched through the layers of fat and struck bone. The beast's bull momentum pushed back the walrus, moving what was thought once to be the unmovable object. Frantically Maguma did what little he could do in retaliation. Striking down again and again like a lumberjack, the monster brought it's pillar tusk against the armored back of Anguirus. The chiseled teeth chipped and cracked across the carapace. To Anguirus, the strikes were nothing more than softened blows. He ignored the attack and instead pressed further in his goring. Tendons strained and constricted under the onslaught. Anguirus could smell the stagnant blood with his attack. The putrid vile life of the walrus was pouring from his inflict wound. Dripping and mingling in his flaring nostrils. It was a sickening carrion feast that garnered greater hatred within the reptilian behemoth.

Off to the distance, Peguila had finally regained his footing. Towering once more, the monster took to the skies. Expanding wings blotted out the raining sun, casting an overlooking shadow upon the other grappling monsters. The shadow rose and fell as Peguila slammed into the earth behind the entrapped Anguirus. Expanding it's massive lungs, Peguila prepared to enter back into the conflict with renewed vigor. Howling cries mingled with his icy hurricane breath once again. The surging frost left his gaping orifice. The arctic blast surged and swelled as they broke upon the bed of nails. Maguma mourned in anguish; the dreaded weapon of Peguila was entering and stinging his already ruptured flesh. The soft underlying muscle and bone chilled and shrank in dole. Anguirus however was almost oblivious to the onslaught. He could feel the slithering bleak across his shell, but it was no worse than the cold that had consumed him in the brimmed depths of his arrival.

Peguila continued to pour to his hated and vice upon the creatures, their forms where lost in a froth of white coalescing snow. He could not perceive though the veil what counterattack of Anguirus that he was preparing. The dragon beast had thrown the injured body of Maguma to the side and began to rear up upon his hind legs.

Gaafa was amazed at the intelligence of the animal that seemed to want to protect the scientific facility. The four-legged creature was now standing upon it's hind legs, it's shelled back facing the streaming gouts of arctic wind that spat forth from Peguila. Then, in a surprising move, Anguirus threw it's weight backwards, it's body flung towards the leaf green winged kaiju. Peguila's cries of anger were cut shot as the spiked kaiju crashed into him. Both masses of rugged waned flesh tumbled head over heels. Their bodies intertwined and rolled across the tortured landscape.

When they came to rest, it was Anguirus that was back to his feet first. The squat vicious creature barked hissing bays from it's iguana tight jaws. Racing forward, Anguirus sank it's fanged mouth upon one of the nefarious creature's wings. Like a pit-bull, the beast gnawed and tore at the appendage. Anguirus was worrying away the flesh. Tugging and pulling, trying with all his unfathomable might to rip the wing asunder. Peguila wailed at the deploring creature that sought to make him rue his existence. The biped giant managed to stand once again. Flailing his arms, he desperately struggled to fling the accursed saurian away. Leathery flesh ripped and frayed between the hooked ivory teeth of Anguirus. The biblical tug of war ended then. Huge flabby stretches of brawn tore free from their host, casting rivers of red fluid sin to stain the stark white ground.

Anguirus cast the vile rancid meat away. The very taste of this phantom was an ushering blasphemy of wickedness. The putrid flesh lingered and soured him. It gave the dinosaur the briefest of pleasures to see the demon flail and thrash about in agony. Though, not wasting a second, Anguirus launched himself again at Peguila. The winged creature was however ready and caught the four-legged beast in mid charge as it reared up to grab at him. Seizing the sides of Anguirus' head, Peguila used his tattered alar arms and brought his full strength down. Like casting down a stone, Peguila, along with gravity, threw the reptile face down into the snow. The tusked leviathan pressed further and rolled the deadly crocodile like monster onto it's back. An upper hand was finally realized. Peguila lashed out with tri-clawed feet upon the soft gut. Huge rifting trenches raked across the scaly underside. Scarlet blood was bored. Anguirus was no immortal. It was a beast that bled and therefore could die. Howling in madness Peguila continued his butchery.

Anguirus' wide laden red eyes screamed in silent rage. Squirming about, he sought to free himself, but Peguila had him pressed down unto his back. Now the creature was hacking and slashing away at his being, shredding his scaly hide in wantonness destruction. Unbridled and lacking, Peguila was unleashing waves of mutilated sorrow. Ages of solitude had manifested themselves to unquestioned abhorring hate that now poured from a melancholy paled soul. Movements became laggard, thrashing turned to almost stillness. Beneath his clubbing strikes Peguila could feel life leech from the fanged lizard. Vitality was absconding. Stepping back, the wing behemoth gazed upon the shattered enemy. Anguirus wept from a dozen lacerations. Shock flooded and oozed from his hanging bloodied jaw. Lifting his head, Peguila clamored the skies, hollering his strength upon the land.

Behind, he heard the labored breathing of Maguma as it righted itself. The mountain of flesh and bone stood weakly, his tendons strained to keep his frame upright. Boulder growls surged through his overtaxed form. His strength was flagging. Shambling forward on vast webbed feet, Maguma made one last ditch effort to end the towering beast in front of him. Peguila sneered with amusement before he backhanded the raging walrus with a fanned arm. Normally it would be a glancing blow, but the recent wounds inflicted upon Maguma by the primeval Anguirus, had been too much. The injuries were dooming and would lead to his demise.

Ground cracked and ice split. Mounds of blight flesh toppled over. Peguila hissed and reached down with giant grasping claws. Wrenching his talons into the face of the weakened Maguma, the monster ripped open the tusked maw of the fallen mammal. Then, in an act of complete malice and sacrilege Peguila breathed his spoiled vivacity into the mouth and throat of Maguma. Torrid winds of hell's ice filled and coated the very being of the struggling walrus. He could feel his insides chill and slow. Blood turned to thick mesh and organs subsided in their beats. One by one, organic devices shutdown. The once bright vital eyes, now transformed into clouded milky orbs. White sleet crept and crawled, tonguing the deepest of regions. Handfuls of minutes crawled by hands and knees in the maelstrom of violence. A lifetime of pain passed before Peguila ceased it's wrath. Grunting sinfully, the beast dropped the lifeless Maguma to the ground. It's lolling dead head stared with frozen wide eyes. One warrior had finally be vanquished from the battlefield. The other would soon follow.

While the creatures warred, Boris Yaroslav and the others ran out into the field. Abandoning the facility, they rejoined the awestruck Gaafa. A moment to flee from this horrid world had presented itself. And by damn the General would not see it pass so ideally by.

"We need to leave now," Boris shouted in exasperated breaths. "Everyone get in the jeep, we will make our way for the Destroyer Udaloy."

"No," Gaafa replied quickly. "We can't let that winged thing win this. That dinosaur saved us. He has shown no aggressiveness, no ill will to us. It came here and protected us from both of those monsters."

"You're a fool," the Commander cried back dumbfounded. "That Anguirus creature is an animal, it doesn't even have the concept of what we are. We are ants to that thing. It just came here to fight those monsters. Territory, food, it doesn't matter why they are battling. What I do know is that it is not because of us! Now get into the jeep now or you can stay here while this place blows."

Gaafa was going to continue his fruitless argument, when the air was shattered once again by the deafening cries of Peguila. The men turned only to see the emerald leviathan eying them. Barking it's cackling roars once more, it broke into stride and began to make it's way towards them. Hundreds of feet were covered in a matter of steps. In seconds the beast was nearly upon them. They had no time to react, no time to even run. All they could do was embrace the stamping finish that would be delivered upon them. Gaafa closed his eyes and coward his body in preparation for death's cold hand. It never came.

Air shattered as twin massive goliaths crashed into each other in lusting fury. The gathered Russians stood in awe. Anguirus, bloodied and ravaged, had returned to the fight with renewed power. The beast had raced across the withered landscape and plowed into the titan Peguila. The towering age old dinosaur rolled away and bared it's savoring teeth at the rising Peguila that stood near him once again. Seething, the winged monster launched itself upon the sneaky attacker. Barreling it's full might, Peguila steamrolled the weakened Anguirus. The giant lizard fought back, but Peguila had him gripped about his head. The fowl icy beast was using it's superior strength and was slowly, turning his neck. By grains of sand, the thick nape was turned; forcing Anguirus further and further into the snow. Eventually, the saurian was forced give into the tusked monster's strength. The impact of his fall knocked down the gazing onlookers. A very similar scene was preparing to play out once again. An act of repeated hellish violence was being unveiled. Peguila had gripped the upper and lower jaws of the waning Anguirus. Peguila now was stalking; wanting for his essence to fill his victim with it's arctic touch. Anguirus tried to resist, but the length of the conflict, and of his immense journey to this place, had drained him of most of his power.

"We got to do something," Vadim exclaimed at the sight of Peguila attempting to deliver the fatal blow.

Gaafa turned to Boris Yaroslav and his subordinate Vaslov. Determination burned in his deep set eyes. The irises beaded with resolve. The General lowered his brow; he could not bring himself to continue an argument he did not truly believe in. His mind still screamed at the futility of the situation. These were monsters, they were animals that were battling for reasons buried in primitive instincts. Higher thought was not possible with these barbaric beasts. But his heart begged to differ. He had seen first hand this Anguirus twice save them from the cold dredging Peguila. His actions spoke of a higher existence, a deeper thought. A thought that was above anything he had imagined that a mere animal was capable of. The soldier, in his soul, commanded him to repay a debt. If he did nothing, than this evil shall triumph that day. Looking about, he spied a RPG-7 shoulder mounted rocket launcher that had fallen in battle. He scooped it up and turned to Gaafa with grizzled nerve.

"Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to get the jeep started," he half spoke mockingly.

The chubby man gave a smile before he jumped into the vehicle. Searching around, it wasn't long before he located the keys and had started the near frozen engine. Vadim had already crawled into the passenger side of the all terrain machine. Vaslov had picked up another RPG-7 that had been laying half buried in the snow as well. The two veteran soldiers clambered into the back of the jeep. They stood through the open wire roof and prepared to aim their 105 mm grenade propelled weapons.

"Go!" the General whole heartily bellowed.

Instantly Gaafa put the metal to the floor. The wheels squealed momentarily before they were able to grip the slippery snow. The machine rocketed across the uneven terrain; taking a handful of hopefuls to aid in a battle that was embroiled in the most lifeless and remote places of the planet. Wind and snow whipped and beat at the grizzled faces of the Russian soldiers. Vaslov struggled to see through the lashing cold. His hands burned and itched upon the rocket launcher's trigger. He would ram his weapon down that profane beast's icy throat. His comrades would be avenged that day by his own chiseled hands. He glanced over at his commander who stood by his side. The man was unblinking. His gaze was fixed upon the winged monster that towered before them. His eyes were set buried in his deep angered brow. Their steel blue cornea's gleamed with wisdom and hate. The young soldier let loose a prosperous cry from the pit of his being. It was scream that unleashed the mounting tension that gripped his bones. A war cry from humans that split the vacuity of their fear.

"Ready your aim," Boris Yaroslav spoke with welling hubris.

Ahead of the charging jeep, matching giants fought with dire peril. Anguirus was unsuccessful at escaping from Peguila's hold. And now, he began to feel the same

tormentful end that the vapid Maguma had suffered. The spiked back dinosaur felt the twisting brisk soul of the tusked kaiju fill his taxed mouth and strained throat. It leeched and wormed it's way down the soft pink flesh; branching into his body like gnarly thorny weeds of frost. The arctic winds was an affliction, an uncharitable rage that had a life of it's own. The monster's boiling blood cooled and slowed among the blanketing essence. Slowly by slowly, Anguirus' movements began to lager. Reaching out and willing his limbs with his mind felt like driving needles. There was nothing more he could do. Weakly he closed his eyes and let the cold overtake him.

"FIRE!" the battle tested general screamed into the sundered sky.

Twin small explosions answered the soldier's command. Gaafa smiled briefly when he saw the two rockets streak over his head. The weapons cut through the sky, leaving behind trails of curling black smoke. The conspicuous warheads went unnoticed to the marauding Peguila. Until they made contact. Peguila roared in anguish and pain as the duet of steel encased grenades exploded against his leathered face. Shrapnel and stinging power seared his orb like eyes. The beast ceased it's icy onslaught and fell backwards; clawing it's face in desperate measure to rid himself of the encompassing pain that braced his skull like a vice.

"Burn in hell you monster," Boris Yaroslav groused to himself as the jeep turned and sped away from the duel monsters.

Anguirus' rolled to his side, his eyes feeble watched as Peguila finally began to regain his composure. Black blood trickled from his facial wounds; it ran and poured to the earth in pools of rancid filth. The tunneling saurian craned his head to see the tiny insects speed away after they had attacked. They were the ones who had called him here, and now they had spared his life from the grasping talons of that cold devil. Turning back, Anguirus bared his fangs and splayed his clawed paws into the earth. Repulsion and rancor daggered from his scarlet eyes. Filling his lungs, Anguirus roared a sound that shattered sky and soul. A cry that rasped with hate, that bellowed with wraith. It was a noise that was pitched with revulsion that the great tomes of man could not capture with pen and script.

Bursting with speed, Anguirus launched himself at the partially blinded Peguila. The animal was too fast for the destroyer of life to prepare for. Tens of thousands of tons of flesh and bone slammed into the sage hued monster. A bullish weight that bowled it and it's attacker head over heels. A cloud of misting snow lifted to the heavens, blotting out the carnage of war from the delicate human eyes that dared to still look on. A whipping tail and a thrashing wing were all they could make out from the veil of white smoke that covered both combatants. It was some time before the shimmering brume would settle and allow Gaafa and his party to view the butchering that had taken place.

Vadim gasped when he saw the shelled lizard grind it's piercing yellow fangs into the soft supple throat of the cringing Peguila. No sound was escaping the monster's tattered voice. Anguirus was crushing bone and sinew in a clasping bite that closed further and further. Only whipping wisps crawled from the clamped esophagus. Like a mountain lion with a fresh kill, Anguirus refused to let up. Even as Peguila clawed at his face; ripping huge tears that sagged with blood, Angilas rebuffed to let go. If the Russian men had not first hand seen the horror that Peguila had wrought, they might have actually felt a smidgen of pity for the dying animal. But as of now, they could only look on with half smiles as Peguila sighed it's final breath in the mortal world.

Lifeless and dead, Anguirus finally released it's titanic hold. The expired creature's head flopped to the ice covered ground. The sound of bone and meat smacking against the earth reverberated across the plains. The devil had been vanquished. An ancient being who's time was long passed, had returned to the earth that had spawned it. A wheezing labored breath seeped from Anguirus' blood stained maw. His eyes were half open, they tinged with weakness and pain. Ever muscle, every fiber begged and cried. The day had unveiled more than would had ever imagined. The ancient beast slowly turned and eyed the tiny beings that had kept him from death's door. Willing his arms and legs, the beast sluggishly crawled towards them. Two of the figures raised small black tubes to his presence. The other two stood their ground and refused to move an inch.

"Don't," Gaafa whispered to the alarmed Russian soldiers. "You don't actually believe those weapons are going to do any good. They are just going to alarm and threaten him."

"I will not stand by and be stepped on like some common ant," the General growled his reply.

"If he was going to kill us, there is nothing that we could do to stop him," Vadim pointed out. "Just let him go, I think he has earned that."

Anguirus stopped his advance just short of the men's jeep. He lowered his head and eyed the assemble of insects that had been the cause of his awakening. Their call had brought him here, it was their call that caused his world to be rent with pain and monsters. Hatred and vice were not the emotions however that he seethed with. Instead, a gentle vigor graced his mind. For the first time, in a long time, Angilas felt he was not alone. He had no idea if he would see these creatures again, no idea if the next time he heard the call that it would be something else.

This day had given him prospects though. Centuries and eons of time now would not be questioned. He was an animal with a purpose. Raising his head to the clouds, the ancient dinosaur let loose one final longing cry; one that would be remembered to those who heard it. Then, in transcending peace, the animal turned and crawled to the icy shore. Quietly, Anguirus slipped into the frozen waters and let his body drift out into the spanning oceans. It was nearly twenty minutes before the monster was completely out of the Russian's sight.

"Now what do we do," the pudgy Gaafa snorted.

"We leave," Boris Yaroslav simply replied as he pressed the button on the controller he had concealed in his breast pocket.

The area exploded in response. Mjöllnir's Summit blew outwards in a storm of splinters and fragmented metal. The once squat ugly build was now a fiery pyre. Orange incandescent flames plied and twisted their way into the frigid sky. Blazing unearthly fires chased the cold and clouds from the area around the men. Once was a field of monster's cries, now transformed into a crackling sonnet of flames and red heat.

"Christ man you could have warned us before you did that," screamed Vadim hoarsely.

The General paid no attention to the whining scientist. Instead he directed his gaze to Gaafa.

"Understand this," Boris began. "The existence of that Anguirus is not to leave us four. What happened here today is that a lot of good men gave their lives to fight two giant animals that had attacked the facility. These monsters killed themselves in battling one another."

"What…" Vadim questioned in surprise. "That creature is a find of a lifetime. We cant keep his existence from the scientific community, let alone the world. He is a product of evolution at it's finest. Virtually unchanged for millions of years. I mean how is he still alive, how did he survive the catastrophe that claimed all of his kind. These are questions he has locked away in him."

"And you want to tell the Russian Government that we put our faith in a monster this day. That we let a powerful creature like that go, when we had a chance to kill it in it's weakened state with the Destroyer Udaloy. Make no mistake I could have had that warship hunt him down and kill him. If he should ever rise again, god forbid in the capital of Moscow, who do you think they will blame."

"Why did you let him go," Gaafa interceded the general as he belittled his friend.

"Because he proved himself a warrior," the old man spat back. "If he should die from his wounds he received today than so be it. But I will not hurry him to his death if he has a chance. By this measure I judge that creature. Do not disillusion yourself, I still think of the beast as nothing more than a brainless leviathan. But he has earned this day. Next time, I will end his life and dispel him from this world that he does not belong in. Now, the Udalov is waiting for us. We should start back. We are going to have a lot of debriefing to do before we get back home."

With that, the men piled into the tan ravaged machine. Starting her engines, they rode away from the flames that licked their backs. They could smell burning fuel for most of the trip. In an hour, they were safely back aboard the floating titan of steel and iron. As they agreed, they dared not breath a word of Anguirus' presence. It was a simple tale of men battling the horror of mother nature's fury. Twin ancient beings who in the end would claim the lives of each other. A narrative that would be logged and sorted in the endless miles of paperwork of the military. It seems, things and beings never do change.


	6. Chapter 6: Hopes and Plans

**Hopes and Plans**

The small black and unmarked car drove it's way through the crunching ice and came to rest at the curb in front of a dilapidated apartment complex. The vehicle idled and spewed it's fumes as the being inside watched the front door to the building open. Pulling a heavily layered coat closer to his chest, a man in military dress stepped out into the cold Russian winter. His hat brimmed over his face, but did not prevent him from seeing the registered vehicle to pick him up for his debriefing with some of the highest politicians that worked in the Russian military. He approached the car and opened it's side passenger door, only to let his eyes befall upon the face of his commanding officer Boris Yaroslav.

"Sir I didn't know you were picking me up," he breathed surprisingly. "I would have thought you would have been at the meeting already. Thought they would send some military police to pick me up."

"They asked me to make sure that you will arrive on time," the General smiled warmly.

The youthful soldier grinned back and jumped into the vehicle. In moments they were starting back up, driving the black car down the tundra streets of Moscow. Ahead they could see the parliament building, it was a ways off but was in sight. Okhotny Ryad was a bit busier than it usually was. With this traffic it would take the better part of an hour to get to his meeting with the elected officials. Time however was a luxury that he would no longer overlook. He cherished every second he had to live after his ordeal with the North Pole mission. He had been to several meetings with various captains and generals since that time. Each instance he reenacted the same story that Boris had beat into his head on the ship. He retold each time of the horrors that Maguma, and the newly dubbed Peguila, had wrought. It was easy at first, but as time passed it was getting more difficult for the military to believe them all. Wounds on Peguila's neck had indicated a different tale to the arriving military expeditions that journeyed there weeks later. They had told and weaved a purposed truth that laid half buried in the lies that he had been expelling to his officials. The wounds could not have been inflicted by the deceased Maguma, but as of the moment they did not have a better answer than he and his commanding officer were offering. Even the two civilians were able to hold up to the incisive military questioning. An act that surprised even him.

"I sure will be glad when this whole ordeal is over with," the youth growled tiredly. "It's getting harder and harder to keep telling them "our" story. I suspect they believe there was something else up there now. Thankfully the snow and winds hid all traces of Anguirus from them. I wonder if he survived his wounds. He lost a lot of blood. That was truly a war for any creature on this earth to endure."

"I really have no idea," his commanding officer replied back with light

antebellum. "I've never seen anything, man or animal, take that sort of punishment and live. But I must change the subject. Have you yet to turn over the cloned hard drive?"

"No, but I have it with me," the youth muttered softly as it pulled the hunk of lifeless metal and wire device from his coat. "Today I was to present our findings. Perhaps all this blood shed and loose will amount to something in the end."

"It will my friend." Boris licked his lips nervously and partially closed his eyes as tears weld within them. The young soldier went unnoticing as the older man pulled a slick black GSh-18 pistol from his side door. He did not see the hammer crank back. He did hear the muzzle blaze with cold mindless fury. He did not see the bullet as it passed through his temple, leaving an oozing crimson mist to splatter along his side passenger window.

Sullenly heartbroken, Boris Yaroslav slowed his car and pulled into a deserted back alley. Salt laced tears ran down his cheeks as he got out of his vehicle and paced around to the other side. Opening the door, he pulled the dead man's body from his vehicle and dropped it into the wet slushy gravel streets. He sighed a deep regretful breath as he took the cloned hard drive and got back into his car. Not looking back, he sped away. Leaving his friend, his comrade, his soldier, to lay dead in the grungy filthy streets. His blood seeped into the parched earth snow, tainting it to a dull rose pink. Vaslov Chvoz would go on to be another unsolved murder in Russia's growing dingy history of it's capital Moscow.

* * *

><p>Vad<span>i<span>m Kirill stood in the dank hallway of the third floor of the Stuvo Apartment Complex. He looked longingly up and down the hall, trying to spy any form of life. The place seemed lifeless and dead. It was an eerie silence that chilled him more to the bone than the cold winter airs that were outside. He had come to hate stillness and seclusion. Ever since he came back from the military expedition to the North Pole, he had counted himself as a new man. Every other night he made sure to leave his cramped little room at the university, and go someplace; any place. He would never take life for granted ever again after witnessing such brutal death and violence.

He was about to rap upon the paint-peeled door in front of him, when it swung upon and revealed an aperture. Standing in front of him, with a fried chicken leg in hand, Gaafa Tolya gleamed with happiness. Behind his rosy jowls and balding sand-pepper hair, the pudgy man was truly ecstatic to see his friend. They exchanged a warm hugging embrace before Gaafa invited him in. Once inside, Vadim found that they were not alone. On the other side of the living room was a nerdy looking man that was probably only in his twenties, but looked as worn as if he were in his forties. He was sitting on a auburn hued couch, hunching over a work table that laid sprawled out with debris. Amongst the pile of rubbish, Vadim spied one item in particular that knifed his soul. His mind flashed back to hellish times at the sight of the small innocent looking metal box that Gaafa had pocketed from Mjöllnir's Summit.

"Please don't tell me that is what I think it is," the young man spoke with half froze features. "That is not the device you stole from the base is it?"

"Borrowed," Gaafa retorted half jokingly. "My friend is computer expert in military programming languages. I've had him trying to analyze that device that we found."

"And an interesting device that it is," the unnamed man spoke out openly. "I've never seen any programming language like this before in all my years at poking around military projects. This is just too high tech for them, if I had to make a guess this was a private sector piece of technology."

"Great," sighed Vadim as he took a seat opposite of Gaafa and his companion. "So you are saying we were part of some kind of black ops. Great, I guess I can star in my own video game now!"

The room fell silent after the placid joke was uttered. It was a few moments before the conversation resumed. Vadim was a bit miffed that his humor was unappreciated but, it always was, so it let it pass as Gaafa's friend continued on about the mysterious device that had come from the loneliest places on Earth.

"As far as I have been able to tell, this machine operated like a radar, but not. I mean all radar works by sending out electromagnetic waves, more specifically radio waves. It blankets an area and relays to the operator where objects are, how far and their densities even. This machine doesn't use radio waves, at least not a spectrum of sound waves that I am familiar with. These energy waves still blanket an area, but don't record physical layouts or object locations. They seem to only react when they come in contact a very specific energy pattern that is housed in the memory chips of this thing. I've never seen energy patterns like this, it's not even close to anything on the periodic table. If this machine was using the electromagnetic fields of the North Pole, I imagine that they were able to send this low frequency wave across a majority part of the globe. They were looking for something. Something quite specific. And that something is considerably dangerous judging from the energy patterns that I have been able to decipher from this. "

"Woah." Vadim let the word slip from his parted lips as his mind absorbed the rapid information. "That explains everything though. It explains exactly what happened!"

Gaafa tilted his head to one side in puzzlement. His cocked eye had risen when his friend expressed that he had a grasp of understanding of what had taken place in the snow. What was exchanged next would shape the men's future of their world and of anothers.

"That explains why the Angurisaurus showed up. You see, dinosaurs and birds are close relatives. They are descendants. We now know that birds are extremely sensitive to the electromagnetic fields of the Earth. They use these fields to help with their migrations. If these fields were being bombarded with this energy wave, it might have been enough to lure him to the North Pole. His genetic disposition could have been greatly affected by that machine. It's no wonder why your "moving" earthquake never faltered in it's path. He made a straight line for the base. We inadvertently brought our savior to us."

"Do you believe that is why the other two monsters showed up as well," Gaafa questioned as he grabbed his half glass of water that had been sitting in front of him.

"No no, there is no way," Vadim shot back almost in hysteric laughter. "Peguila and Maguma are mammals. They are generally not effected by these fields like birds. Besides, these monsters are so drastically different from each other, there is just no chance that this one particular radio wave would be able to affect them all the same way. No I believe the answer behind Peguila's and Maguma's appearances are a lot easier. I imagine we did it. They were probably frozen in the ice. Hibernation. Or maybe trapped from the rapid cooling of the Earth after the asteroid hit. All this global warming and human's destroying this planet with our wonderful polluting technology. The ice caps are melting. We let them out. We unleashed those horrors. God know what knows what else could be dwelling in that ice."

The final words hung like bloodied meat in a locker. It dripped with fear and potential chaos. To imagine that other creatures like Peguila and Maguma might still exist in the ice was a truly frightening thought that would crush the soul of any optimistic person. The two men's minds flashed with memories of that faithful day. The frozen anguished looks of the dead men who were stopped silent in their tracks. The rivers of arduous tortured blood that splattered across the snow. The smell of rancid glum that hung in the infernal hatred filled skies. Suddenly an idea popped into Gaafa's mind. An irrational thought that begged to be honored to stem the fear that now grew in the pit of his stomach. An idea that would test the steel reserve of all who chance to hear it.

"Artur," the heavy set man whispered in soothing tone. "Do you think you could rebuild the device? Just make it smaller. Like the size of a beeper or phone. It doesn't necessarily have to actually work, it just needs to be able to emit that selective sound wave. It needs to be almost as effective in distance as the other one. Do you think you can do that?

"I have most of the programming language intact," his friend replied. "And the wave pattern seems to hold their intensity for long distances. It doesn't dissipate as quickly as normal radio waves. I guess I could but why?

Vadim stood up after the innocent question was uttered. In his heart he knew what Gaafa was planning. It was foolish and whole heartily stupid. Gaafa was going to be playing with forces that had endured the twisting fate of the planet for millions of years. Forces that could level nations. Forces that could not be controlled by the languid will of man.

"Your not serious," he yelled as his face reddened. "You are not really thinking what I think you are thinking! You can't control him. All your making is a oversized dog whistle. You cant use it. If you use that; you might bring him into the heart of Moscow. He would kill hundreds of people. That is too much power for one man to wield. You could literally end the country with one press of a button. You will be damning countless souls, corrupting thousands of lives."

"And what if we don't," Gaafa questioned heatedly. "You don't think the government is going to find out of his existence. You don't think they are going to piece together the conclusions you have uttered here today. If we do not do this, than someone else might. Then they could use him for something truly evil that I know in my heart he is not capable of. You said it yourself. What if there is something else buried in that ice, laying in wait out there. Waiting for mankind's continued stupidity at his dying world. Another Peguila, another Maguma? Or maybe something far, far worse. If it comes to Moscow, the military will be powerless to stop it. Anguirus could be our only hope. You witnessed those creature's powers in person."

"What you are suggesting though is nuts man," the youthful paleontologist stated in much lower and softer tones. "Do you think we could actually lead him there. Then what happens afterwards. You think he is going to leave? Do you think the government wont attack him as well. Anguirus will be nothing more than a cornered animal that will operate on the basic instincts of fight for flight. After seeing him first hand, I doubt that boy will ever choose flight over a drag out battle."

"I am aware my friend," the chunky scientist continued. "But ask yourself, which is the greater threat. Another Peguila or Anguirus. If left unchecked, would it be more harmful to call for his assistance, rather than leave that icy beast to slaughter hundreds of thousands unchecked. You saw the lust in those demon yellow eyes of Peguila. It was an animal that killed not out of necessity but from wantonness. It enjoyed it. I would not use this machine lightly. It would only be in the most dire of needs. We have to make sure that no one else discovers this secret and uses him for some nefarious scheme. We can make sure that our country, our world, will be safe from the carnage of another behemoth from the depths of this planet. Anguirus will be the light in the consuming shadow that darkens our world everyday."


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The white sterile room reflected in stark contrast to the black vile soul whom sat within it. It was large and cavernous, with a single oak finished table lying in it's center. Along one of the walls was a massive television screen which was currently set to a Russian news station. Even though the gaunt and wizened figure that sat alone could not speak Russian, he was understanding the gist of what was being said. The long haired blonde, and curvaceous, female reporter was informing her country of the tragic and senseless death of a soldier by the name of Vaslov Chvoz. A prominent young man with an admirable career that was gunned down in the streets.

Suddenly the TV's communications was interrupted. A soft feminine voice was speaking through the intercom that sat just off and to the right of the frail man's laagering head.

"Sir, Commander Boris Yaroslav is here," the angelic call sounded.

"Send him in," he simply replied as casual as autumns rain.

From the far side of the room, opposite of the devilish being, twin gate doors of Ceylon Cedar, swung open. Stepping through, with clanging black boots, the disgraced Russian commander strode in. His eyes and features were buried beneath the brimming hat. Hidden and shamed by his recent actions among his civilized world. Crooked in one arm was a briefcase that housed an object that been the subject to countless deaths and bloodshed over the last few months. The General stopped just short of his host. He took a minute to evaluate and sneer at the ghostly man that sat before him. The human, if one could call such devilry a human, was obviously Japanese, but he was old and withered. His eyes were sunken and resounded with the evil that dwelled within those black pools. His nose was hawk-like and his teeth were rotted like plagued bark. His plate was filled with long coarse black hair that shown with silvered streaks. His body was skeletal, thin and wiry.

Sighing deeply, the creature stood up, giving full view of his gaunt skeletal form. The man's suit was raven black with highlights of dulled gray. Embracing his back and shoulders, was a draped silky cape that laid lifeless. Boris could see the rusted gears twist and turn in the man's brain. His was a mind that truly embodied the darkest of evil's that man was capable of. The individual paused before he spoke, deciding to carefully choose his words that were to be uttered.

"You surprise me General," the figure spoke contemptuously. "I did not figure that you would go so far as to murder your own soldier, your own friend. You have cast away your entire past and future with the single pull of a trigger. I hope it was worth it in the end."

"You have no right to even speak of him you bastard," Boris growled through clinching teeth. "I did what I needed to do."

"Exactly," the shrived devil hissed with amusement. "You did what was needed. Many of men have utter that faithless phrase, but in all honestly few have done what they knew what was to be to accomplished. But not you. You know explicitly what your heart wanted. You knew what was to be used as a benefit for the world. You have allowed a truly dawning age to grace man's theistic existence."

"I don't care what you have to say," Boris lament with vice stripped lungs. "Now where is she?"

The senior man smiled wickedly. His thin lips curls to devil's amusement. Stepping back, he returned to his desk and spoke into the intercom. He called for his underlines to send "her" in. Within seconds the gate doors that Boris had entered in, swung open a second time. A beautiful young woman, in a long black gorgeous dress, walked in with her head held low in sorrow. The Russian General instantly recognized the form of his daughter. A twenty two year old half Japanese, half Russian beauty that turned heads wherever she went. Her silk black hair covered her saddened face from his view.

"Daughter!" he half gasped as he ran and embraced the jewel of his world.

He tightly gripped her limp form, squeezing an embrace that he never wanted to let go. He pulled back a bit to look upon the face that had reminded him so much of his wife of so long ago. The twin hazel eyes met his; but they seemed devoid of the happiness that he was certain that she would be feeling. Instead, he was met with something else quit different. He did not notice the small Smith and Wesson .45 ACP pistol from the folds of her dress. He could not feel the cold stainless steel barrel press against his stomach. No, he only knew of it's existence after it had fired a single shot. The muzzle flashed and released it's deadly payload into the gut of the man; tearing through his form like paper. The gold tone bullet dispensed it's power, spearing through the flesh. Boris Yaroslav fell backwards, cuddling his body in anguished pain. As he looked up, all he saw was the same stone faced beauty that he had known for over twenty years. The young woman, with her visage spriest with crimson blood, picked up the suitcase that her father had dropped. Turning about face, she returned to the side of his captor.

"What did you do to her!" the General screamed from the pit of his soul.

"The human mind is such a wonderful thing isn't it," the wizened figure began in cheerful tone. "It is the most powerful computer ever conceived. Divine creation I suppose. It relays information signals that number in the millions. While it is an omnipotent device, it is still basically a machine. It uses the same pathways and routes in every human, to send and receive stimuli and thoughts. Once you map it out, it's quit simple to see how everything is pieced together and works. Only then you can see the utter failure that the mind really is. It can be slaved, manipulated as easy as a whipped dog."

Boris Yaroslav's eyes widened in dismay as the aged devil pressed another button on his desk that lowered an orb that flashed with rainbow colors. The light patterns dances and bore into the cavern of the room. The solider felt strangely at peace, even though he was slowly and painfully bleeding out onto the floor. The coldness that was creeping upon him was fading. The moist sticky feel of the thickening blood was drifting away.

"Light is a defining factor to our existence. It gives life and illuminates our way. But, in certain patterns, he can transform a body into a convulsive uncontrollable essence. Or it can dull one's self and make them susceptible to outside influences."

The man then turned off the heavenly device. Extending his left hand, he gestured for the woman to turn over her firearm to him. She obligingly did without a second thought. Turning around, he walked over to the dying military man. His eyes seethed with malevolence. His lips curled in vice.

"Why are you doing this," Boris horsed weakly.

"Please know that the events that you have allowed to transpire today will help shape the fate of this world," he declared in modesty. "The information you gathered from my machine is the culmination of three decades of my life. You have helped me locate a new source of energy for mankind. An element that will make uranium and plutonium seem like children's toys. It is an element that I have discovered and jovially named Element X."

"So what, this is some kind of world domination fantasy you have," the grizzled Russian laughed as blood began to bubble from his quivering thin lips.

"Of course not," the stranger replied grinningly as his narrow eyes closed to slits of levity. "No single organization could ever hope to defeat every military power in the world. Even with weapons armed with my Element X it would be difficult. And in all truthful honestly you'll just turn the planet into an uninhabitable wasteland. No, you just sell miniscule amounts of my isotope to them. Even a few milligrams of this element is enough to destroy most of Moscow in one fail breath. Let the nations fight amongst themselves. Let the terrorists strike in the dark. Once the world is fed up with their destructive bickering, they will turn to proclaim a savior. That salvation will lie within me. The name of Doctor Huu will be on their praising voices as they commit their unquestioned wills and loyalty to my ruling stature."

Boris Yaroslav was drained of strength. He was nearly dead when Doctor Huu raised his gun to the man's tear clouded eyes. Boris could not see the gun through the watered salt. He did not care as the barrel blast. He could not feel as the bullet shot into his hanging head. It was another life to be sacrificed for the damn and contemptible machine from the ice. It was be a stepping stone, a drop in the bucket, compared to the slaughter that would soon be fulfilled. From death in the ice, new life was sprung. Life that would rope the world in chains of hate and shackle man in fetter misery.


End file.
